His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up," Weld spoke, quietly. "What?" Shadow Stalker turned to stare at him. "It’s like you’re realizing what a pain in the ass I was to you. And maybe His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not oblivious." "What I meant was that I couldn’t imagine working with you again, with Shadow Stalker, with the way she’s dominating the scene. I had hopes that you’d stick around and do one more patrol with them, after the success you’d had with the Undersiders. You couldn’t. So I was really hoping you’d at least try to replicate my idea of a two-way conversation. Let’s talk about the state of the team, and how we’re doing." "Thanks," I replied. "If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with your boss. I’ve talked it over with his lieutenant and others in charge, and I’ll make a call tomorrow morning." "Okay." Okay. So he’d dealt with it. "What else?" "I think it’s about time we all got on the same page. Reporting to the boss is hard enough, now, and it’s not exactly high pressure. Fixing the team is even harder." "I agree," Weld spoke. "I’m handling my own business." "You don’t get to be all sensitive," Clockblocker said. "I can’t tell you how grateful I am." "You’re only trying to help Clockblocker," I told His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "It can’t be postponed," a woman said, her voice quiet. "It can," Weld said, "And I think people are getting a little further away from the brink of this crisis than they were. I’m all for that, because it gives me a chance to show them I can handle it." "You can’t postpone?" a man asked. "No," Weld said, "Unless I’m not attending the meetings, in which case I’m going to be standing around all day, reading." "That’s fine," Shadow Stalker said, "It’s not like there isn’t any time to plan, to get prepared. We just need to get there." "You’re talking like you’re going to be head of the PRT," a man said. "I am," Weld said. "After reading the documents, I’m not sure what part of the process you’re looking at, but I’m in charge for this very meeting. I think it’s best if you don’t remind me of anything." "You don’t have to remind me," Shadow Stalker said. "I-" "After," Weld said. "If you don’t want to hear it, you don’t have to." She frowned, "Okay." "But I think it’s important. If you don’t act as though we don’t have the military might at our disposal," a man said, "Then we won’t be able to win this fight." "We have plenty," Weld responded. "We may not have the numbers, but I think we’ll win this fight." "You want to lose. In the chance that you do, tell me you won’t blame me if I fail in the next hour and a half." He stared at her. "I won’t," she said. "You want to win, and all I can do is work with you to get the job done, and let me off the hook, when it counts." She exchanged glances with the other men. "I can ask you questions, but I’ll know more His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing. You’re going to have to convince me that you’re really going to turn on the other members of your team. You know that, don’t you?" "I’m afraid…" Weld started. "I’m not promising anything," Shadow Stalker replied. "I’m saying this is a bad idea," Clockblocker spoke. "The precedent has been set, older kids, so there’s no going back." "Except I would say shit like what you did to the Wards, deliberately or otherwise. That’s worse." "I’m saying it’s a hell of a lot worse," Clockblocker answered, sounding irritated. "And I already addressed your case. There’s other cases like it, I’m not going to get into any of them here. I’m going to make a mental note of each of these cases when I’m going to be asking you to come to my office. If it’s a concern, I’ll be able to look you in the eye and tell you that this isn’t one of them." There were enough threats out there that I wasn’t going to be able to act on this mental note. Then again, I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. "Okay," Weld spoke, "I can stop, now. Goodbye." Clockblocker left, and he didn’t come back before the doors of my lair closed. I stood from my bed, then stood for a minute before coming to a stop. I was sore His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say you heard about some work I did, that I think we could do better." "I accused you of being mean to the civilians when I made my accusations against you. I don’t want to do that again." "But?" "I think we do better. I think we can make things better. There’s a lot of ugly places in the world, and a lot of people in power just so happen to be good at what they do. Take away their incentive to try and make things better, and it’s a slippery slope. It only gets harder and more fucked up from there. I’m not trying to take people’s rights away. I’m talking going after the status quo, everyone we can take’s." "You’re talking about taking someone’s rights," Miss Militia spoke. She looked down at the phone. "Do we have evidence?" "Sure. What about this video? The radio ad?" "I found it on the balcony," Clockblocker said. "I edited it myself, to make it shorter." "To make a long story short, it turned out to be too dangerous, and they let it go. They didn’t think it was worth keeping it." "What did you do?" I asked. "Nothing," he replied. There was a long pause. I saw his arm drop to his side in the same moment I saw his shoulders drop. "You knew?" "I don’t know," he said. "But you were complicit," I told him. "I’m sorry. I’m trying to put it all into words. It’s my His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll both be getting His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to ensure Clockblocker wasn’t paying attention. "-they were important. And you’re forgetting that they died, just like we were." "I didn’t kill them. I wasn’t present when they died. I only saw them go." "You didn’t?" Clockblocker asked. "Seriously? Fuck. You. If you think about it, every single one of them was therapists, or professionals who could think on the device, trying to emulate what Cherish is doing on a macro level. I can’t imagine she even knew what she was doing on a micro level, but she was trying to copy the devices people put together when they had the time to learn and tweak their work. I bet she’d been pretty crappy at it, if she even remembered what she was doing in the first place." "There’s a theory that ties into that. You’d think she’d have a reason she could tweak her work so drastically after so much use, while other tinkers are people who can make such durable modifications to existing technology." "I didn’t say that. That’s just theory, really." "Are you saying that’s true, or is it just a theory, and you’re jumping to conclusions?" "Geez. You really think this His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I didn’t have a response for that. "I… don’t know how to respond," Weld said. He looked to Miss Militia for a help. She sighed. "But from what I’ve heard, and the ideas that are being put out there, and the way I’ve been able to investigate the system, there’s a group that’s planning something. Plan A, so far, has been to build a long-term plan for how they’re going to manage this city. A plan for resettling people, a plan for rebuilding and adapting. It’s a temporary plan, but it’s a plan, and we can’t let it slip away." "What’s the plan B?" I asked. "B is leaving. If you’re not actively involved in this conversation, you can still talk, by all indications. Helping to find a place to stay while they find a plan." "How?" Weld asked. "The Undersiders. We’ve been trying to recruit them, and they’re hesitant because of their grudge against the PRT, and the warlords that are taking control the city." "They’re definitely on board," Miss Militia said. "But can they afford to stay? With the budget they have left?" "They can’t afford to stay," Clockblocker said. "It gets spent on bribes and hired guns, and they don’t have any of that." "They can’t afford to stay," Clockblocker repeated himself. "Money that could and should be put toward rebuilding. Without bribes and hired guns, they can’t pay the cops and soldiers that are currently on the ground, protecting the city." "And the fact that they’re standing by?" Weld asked. "That’s more suspicious, right there," Miss Militia said. "They’re either holding the city’s natives hostage, or they His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I didn’t have a response to that. It was what I’d wanted to say, anyways. I looked at the others, then turned to Clockblocker, "Do you want to sit, or would you rather I stand, and talk to you while you do that?" He smiled a little and took a seat behind me, his arms folded around my shoulders. It was a contrast to the smile he’d had on his face before. I couldn’t read his intentions, and he didn’t look troubled at all, not even bashful, which was a real bummer. "If I had one request," I said, "It’d be that you please stay." "What’s the rush? We’ve got this crisis in hand," he said. "If you wanted to be nice," I said, "You’d stay behind with Tattletale and the kids. I could convince Grue to join you, if it was useful." "Is it 'cause of this?" he asked. "If I was able, I’d make every effort to avoid making eye contact with you. Grue knows me pretty well, and he’d see that I wasn’t trying to hide. I’d tell him, and he’d keep my mouth shut. If it was because I was planning on going off the grid for a little while, and I didn’t want to get on his bad side, I’d be open to talking about this shit." "This is going nowhere," he said. "It’s going nowhere anyways," I said. "I’m on the brink of panic. I can’t hold it in. Just let me come with you. I’ll do anything I’m asked to, and I’ll do it without a second thought." He didn’t take his eyes off me. "We’re close to the border," Tattletale said. " His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a twenty-two year old man from a hospital bed," Clockblocker spoke, speaking over her. He put one hand on the girl’s dirty blond hair to steady her. "Puncture in his jugular, doctors expecting blood loss in this narrow gauge," Clockblocker spoke, pointing at her chest. "If I said no, you’d have shot me." "I can’t imagine what it’s going to look like, walking into that room and being in there ten years from now," Weld spoke, his voice low. He closed his eyes. It was the only view with which we were in agreement. "If I’m wrong, if I were absolutely certain we wouldn’t go through with this, you would be begging to have the life taken away from you." "We will," Weld spoke. "The Nine will go to whatever lengths are necessary, to root out and kill our enemies. I’ll play ball, trust my teammates to do the same. At the same time, if they prove themselves resourceful, independent, and if there is any suspicion that the League is spoon-feeding them food before we’ve finished talking, I’ll find some other way to get at you." "You’re talking a lot about other ways," Imp said. "More ways than before," Weld confirmed. "Then there’s two more things I would like to talk to you about," Shadow Stalker said. "The first of which is the notion that we, as a group, are too important. The second is the notion that we, as a group, are too fragile. We’ve been through too much, and nothing we put together can stand up to the hands of an Endbringer." "We have defenses," Weld said. "I’ve put my life, and perhaps others, at risk, I’ve come to rely on His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not saying they didn’t make a fair sacrifice, just that it wasn’t worth it. We’re going to face some of them in the future, and we’ll deal with the rest of you guys after that. I’m fine when I’m that busy." "I could see that," Kid Win spoke. He smiled, "Good to know, Clockblocker. You going to be patrolling tonight?" "Yeah, if it’s no trouble," Weld replied. He turned to his partner, "We’ll figure this out, alright? Don’t give me a hard time, now that I’m aware of what’s going on." "Then you hear about some of the trouble?" "We’ll figure it out." "I’m not that nervous," Kid Win spoke. "Alright. Someone’s got to take the blame, won’t you join me? Nobody’s doing anything wrong, at least, until they make a convincing enough case that someone pays a price." Kid Win nodded, "I’ll think about it." "That’s good. We’ll be in touch," the Director said. He looked genuinely concerned as he paged through the folder. "You sure?" "Yeah." "And if they act on their own, you can be sure we’ll His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to keep going. This is standard operating procedure for the PRT. They don’t want you to overstep your duties, which is why we’re here. We’re here because we’re supposed to be forming a temporary truce, but something’s come up, and we need to be ready for a crisis in the next week." "I can’t go," someone said. "You can, you can keep going. It’s really that easy." "Okay, okay. I’m not sure I understand. What happened?" "Things get ugly." "The world ended," Kid Win said. "Over?" Clockblocker chuckled, "Twice, in fact. The first time was with Glass and Cyborg, we were discussing the coming conflict. Since then, we’ve barely seen him. Only reason we’ve gotten five days of life from him was the time we put into him. Normal rules don’t apply to him. He doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t enjoy the company of women. There would be discipline, like we have with Glass, but it’s His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, who was preparing to head back inside. He smiled and nodded. "Ready when you are," Clockblocker said. Clockblocker turned, leaving only the tinker-duty to go. With that, he was gone, leaving me standing there, alone in the cramped, flooded street. I had no powers that would outwit Clockblocker’s underwater respiration, no countermeasures that would mitigate the toxic smoke. If he truly was manning the console, then I would be dead before I ever got outside. I was about to say something to Flechette, when I heard the sound of something big. Ibsen’s massive forcefield cracked the first time Iogensas flew into the air. The forcefield had held. Bigger than a car, tougher than a car, these guys are the real threats, I thought. The forcefield expanded, nearly three city blocks in diameter, then His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Miss Militia spoke, "Not a 100% guarantee, but I doubt you’re wrong." "You told me this would work." "I was willing to make the call for you because I thought you had it in you to prove yourself. I’m saying you should take it. It’s the only reason we didn’t send you in there to help Bitch." "It wasn’t," Clockblocker replied. "It was vital," Miss Militia spoke, "I could use my power and shut down the device, and it would mean we got captured by those lunatics in armor and you guys would get torn apart by Siberian. I could maybe use my power to get you a nonlethal way out, if that’s what you really wanted." "No. That’s not what I’m saying," Clockblocker replied. "I’m saying it’s not even worth talking about, and you’re solely to blame for putting it out there." "Clock, it seems you’ve gotten your hands on the ‘Defiant’," Miss Militia informed him. "Took his power," Clockblocker said, snorting. "Oh. Well. That’s not what I meant." "No?" Triumph asked. "It was about the powers. The way they work, their origins, and whether or not they’re sustainable. Clockblocker had the least to say about Clockblocker’s power, I believe that’s why he was the one to propose changing the subject." "And you?" "I was the one to point it out, and I was the one to bring it up," Clockblocker said. "It’s something we should discuss with the Watcher’s group, and we should maybe set some time limits on when they can use their powers. Be sure to set aside a certain amount of time each day, so they don’t overwork themselves. Add another week to their lifespan if they’re going to be able to use their power for legitimate reasons." "This is easily paid for," Triumph said. "With tax breaks and incentives, the PRT could give away the moon and His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro. You’re replacing them with kids." "They’re replacing them with kids because they know me. They know the kind of training I do. They know what I stand for." "Is it that you’re afraid of talking to me? That you’re not comfortable with the subject of your teammates and subordinates?" "I’m not… I’m not proud of it. But… I’m not happy I can’t talk to you, here. I wish I could talk to you, but I’m not." "I know. It doesn’t matter." "It doesn’t matter," Clockblocker spoke. He looked down at the phone. "You’re going to trust me when I say that. I’m what you’d call a good leader. I tried to be better than the teachers gave us, on occasion. But it didn’t work. Why? Did it wear on me? Did it challenge me in some way? Did it surprise me that you couldn’t read my face, or that you couldn’t see the little things I did differently? Why do you think I had to be with you, in the bathroom of the school, after school, when I was in the gym, with my dad, and you couldn’t see anything I could have shown you, even if you wanted to? Why did it bother you that I couldn’t just come into your life and be right there beside you, beside your dad, with a His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her tone flat. Not that she was arguing, but the words were alluding to something. Just like the man who had to catch St. Louis’s eye in the process. Noelle, in turn, was trying to convince herself she’d be better when it counted. "We got the job done," Weld spoke, "Good enough. She said goodbye. If it’s any consolation, there’s not much more I can do. The boss is quite fond of you, and he said he wanted you to be successful no matter what you become. I think you’re good enough at this. It’s why I wanted to get this started." "And," Shadow Stalker cut in, "Though he only said that, I do think there’s a gap in our understanding of your power. For one thing, the way your power works, it’s not all coordinated. It really doesn’t work like that. You have to have an anchor, and Person #1 is that anchor. Your identity, your power, it’s very deliberate, and I think that you might be aiming to do something more meaningful than being a hero." Weld nodded. "Your power doesn’t work like that because you have to resort to intimidation," Shadow Stalker explained, "It works like a power that hijacks your emotions." "Yes," Weld agreed, quiet. He couldn’t exactly roll with this. "So this is more to do with your mental state at the time," Shadow Stalker thought aloud. "You have to keep that in mind." "I can’t remember my emotions at the time," Weld confessed. "I have to break down and throw up to be strong for a little while." "You’re not a superhero, Weld. In a strange way, you’re a… what’s the word?" "A downgrade." "I’m not even close to being a third density person. If I had to guess, your words and your actions were dictated by a kind of emotion, just like mine was." Weld nodded. "What about the others? Can you give them a measure of courage they His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the sort of city we’re going to be in a few years. It’s not even going to stay intact-" "It was saved for otherwise perfect individuals," Shadow Stalker said. She smiled a little, "I’m not. But it’s good to know that there’s hope." "It’s good to know there’s still talent out there," Weld said, turning to go. "You’re implying there’s talent when you’re actively trying to hamper it." "I am," she replied. He looked back at her. "You’re an idiot," she said. "Don’t compare me to you," he said, his tone a warning. "I can imagine you’re not happy with where we’ve been." "You’re not happy where we’re at?" he asked. "We’re barely more than pennies on a dollar, Metis. The Nine are gone, and they’ve taken over a city. We’re nowhere close to where we’d be if they hadn’t intervened." "And they’re people. They did this on purpose." "On purpose. Did they think we’d accept their deal, or was it that we’d agree to help them with no strings attached, and so long as they kept trying, try to find some way to make us more comfortable, they’d eventually lose sight of something. Something we can use against them." "I don’t know," Weld said. He sighed. "It doesn’t feel better than they’ve been supplying us with the last, uh, while. I’m not sure when we’ve been getting a paycheck." "They’re people too," Shadow Stalker said, "And they didn’t make a call to capitalize on their power. It doesn’t feel good to me." Weld nodded. "You His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I won’t be there to remind you that it isn’t. You have your chance to get help, to find solutions. You won’t get in their way again. I’ll be out there, and I’ll be ready with anything you need." Weld looked down at his hands. "This… what, come on in?" "This is what I’m leaving to you," she said, sounding far, far older than she was. "You’re going to help me. Help me with my situation, so I don’t get the same sort of punishment that my boyfriend does to my family. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. You want to do this?" He shook his head. "No." "Do you want to come along?" "I do." She smiled a little, but she didn’t look forward to joining us. There was a kind of joy to her expression that he missed out on. He went on, "There’s two things I need to know. Number one, you can’t make me into a member of your team any more than you can make other people into members of your team. You said it yourself. I’d be a liability if I became part of your team because of my criminal history and my attitude. I’ll remain a member of your team because of my abilities as a soldier and because it’s the best way to get the information you need." "You’re cutting me more slack than you’re cutting anyone slack," Weld said. "I’m choosing to be a little hands on," she said. "And I think I’d be a better soldier than most. I’d make better use of my time if I was closer, if I had more experience like you’re showing me." Weld looked at her, and then addressed the Wards. "I want you to be my guest for a few weeks. Let me get to know you better. If you’re of sound mind, if you’re not worried about me and His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say you had to bounce back from something like that. But you don’t. You tried to mislead the public, you tried to terrorize the people in my territory, and you tried to take over the city by blackmailing major figures, all with the idea that you’d use the same heroes and villains over and over again. With the way the system is right now, I can’t imagine you would be too successful hiding a superhero cape from the public." "I don’t know what you want me to do," I told Clockblocker. "I don’t even know if I should go." "Oh, but we can talk. Soupy. You want to go?" Sour grapes? I’ve been working hard. I can do more. "I don’t know what I should do," I repeated myself, trying to find the words. "I’m not sure I want to run things anymore. I got in over my head, I’m underfed, I’m homeless, and it’s all caused by this goddamn jerk that left, fuck you guys." "You’re talking about the leader of the group. The man who’s supposed to be responsible for this. The man you’re looking to replace." "Oh, I don’t really care about anyone except my team. I left because I heard they were making strides to improve things, but-" "I left because I can’t tolerate your substandard living conditions, and because I’m done here. I can’t tolerate your rule that bans outsiders without proof of need, or you testing the boundaries of the group against your enemies and yourself. I can� His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m stepping down, after having the courage to name the team. There’ll be a shake-down, to make up for the fact that there’s been too many issues in the background, too much bullshit told by people who don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m not sure what the standards are, but I’d prefer to lose just a little more face time with the guys I’ve invested in the PRT and Wards, maybe get to keep some, if I can even do that. And maybe I can get the less active members of the Protectorate job. The like-minded people." "You’re not answering my question," Weld spoke, "And you don’t know the full story there, red lightning rod." Clockblocker didn’t flinch at that. "But the thing is," Clockblocker went on, "I’m going to take some members of the Undersiders, because I think they’re the best people for the job. Gallant, directly, and maybe Shadow Stalker, if we can get a bead on her." "And you want to be the last person to know?" Weld asked. "Gallant’s still alive," Clockblocker replied, "And he had a plan. He said he would take around the world, and around the world would become a part of some plan." "And around the world, he His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say you had to bounce back from something like that. But you don’t. You assholes just spat on me." I drew in a deep breath, then sighed. There was no way I was going to let this slide. Not after it had the potential to hurt someone’s feelings. "I don’t know that I should base anything on a lie," I told Clockblocker, quiet, "But what I do know is that it’s been a hard few weeks for you. It’s been hard on your family, it’s been hard on your friends, and it’s been hard on me, too. I wish I could’ve played a part in fixing it." "You wish," Shadow Stalker told me. "Because you didn’t play a part in Bitch’s getting attacked by those monsters from the other night. You didn’t play a part in Dawn’s getting attacked." "I played a part in each of them happening," I said. "And I wish I could say it was for the greater good, but I can’t. There was a purpose in having them, but I guess I just proved a point. People are going to hold on to the things they love, and that’s always better than anything." "I keep telling you, you’re better than what you had. You’re stronger, and you’re more versatile. And I like that you’re telling me this, because that’s a little closer I’m looking to the man I want to be." "Don’t treat me like I’m less of a person for saying that. I’m His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not oblivious." "What I meant was that I wasn’t expecting them to keep at it. I’m not sure I understand why, but I can’t imagine this is going to change in any significant way anytime soon." "Why not?" I asked. "It’s not just me," he spoke. "It’s me as a leader, it’s this team before us, and it’s the people like Weld and Wards, the individuals who’ve made the city their home. Making the city whole without leaving their turf, paying out of their own pocket for protection, it’s they who’ve stayed, who’ve ensured the city can return to what it once was." "I don’t get how you think I could be leader," I told him. "I’ll tell you what. If you want to hang around here taunting me, I’m okay with that. I can see where it would irritate you." I swore under my breath. I wasn’t going to make this argument my last chance to do it. "Leave," he ordered. "You’re not a priority anymore, and I’m not willing to put words in your mouth." "This isn’t going to be easy," I spoke, to keep myself from saying something that would get us killed. "It is," he His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not forgetting them, I’m just trying to figure out how I’ll get them on board in the future. You’re saying we can’t be scared of the future. If we choose to be, at least pretend to be optimistic about it. We can’t pretend to be good or bad or any of that. It’s the reality of what we face." "I don’t want to be that guy," Weld spoke. "I know. You have to learn to say no, or I’ll make your life a living hell." "I could." "Maybe we could talk as a group? Before you get on the phone with the boss." He didn’t respond, but he turned his attention back to the work. He had a few ideas, but nothing went through his head, so he watched as the other group began to bag things up. They had their mouths covered, but they were working together to bag things up. Another group of teenagers with metal skinheads and other local villains rounded out our group. "This is sounding good," one of the young heroes spoke, "We can call in some favors." "Let me talk to the boss," I said, "Before I get on the phone." "Before you get on the phone with the boss, I need to know what’s going on. Is this okay?" "It’s fine," I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not saying they didn’t make a fair sacrifice, but you’re not mentioning them either? They played a part in getting us here. If nothing else, they should be remembered." "I can’t," Weld refused to take his eyes off Shadow Stalker. "They survived," Shadow Stalker spoke, her voice quiet. "I don’t think they will survive another ten days." "I can’t believe that. The movies, TV, they show them getting better, or keeping moving forward, or something like that. They got better, they got organized. They practiced, they rehearsed. They made a difference. They made a difference today. They made a difference." "They are organizing into groups. You aren’t training with them?" "I am, but I’m not in the group." "No. You’re in the group. And you’re here for a reason." "Yeah." "You’re expected to be a team player. A leader. Maybe you’ve reached that point, now, and you’re ready to step up. To lead this team, to provide the leadership that everyone needs." He shook his head a little. "I’m not a leader." "Maybe not a doormaker either," she spoke. She flinched as his voice hardened, "Or a sayousamer." He’ His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I didn’t have a response to that. It was what I’d wanted to say, anyways. "I don’t expect things are bouncing back so fast. I’m still here, I’m doing my job, and people are falling apart." "People are indeed falling apart," Weld confirmed, back to the vandalized computer. He turned to leave, and promptly became targets of Eggman’s fire. Weld was thrown into a wall, and his backpack was shattered. "You’re angry? You’re going to join the others in hating me?" Shadow Stalker asked. "I hate this city and its people," Weld said. "I hate the system, I hate the pauper’s guard, the people who are trying to twist resources, manipulate the system to their own ends. I hate you, more than I hate the Mayor, the police, the prosecutors, the authorities, the people who are trying to discredit me, or the people who think I’m not worthy of the name I’m using anymore. Hell, I’m even bothered by you’s friends. They’re spoiled, immature, whinging, whoring themselves. I… I don’t care if they are infected with the whore’s disease or if they’re infected with it, so why should they have the right to jeer at me?" "Jerk," Shadow Stalker said, with enough venom to tickle the nerves, "I’m older than you, I’ve been spoiled since you stepped in the door." "How’s that?" Weld asked. She leaned against the wall, hands in her pockets. "Holy shit, you’re right. We’re back to the same old story." "It’s not that easy to get your facts straight, you know" Weld said. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a paper plate. He handed it over. "You know what I mean." "I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I do, and I’ll watch your back, depending on if you go with the group I’m going to leave with or if I stay with you guys." Clockblocker smiled, then turned to leave, leaving Weld behind. Epilogue The mercury was melting. My legs were shaking, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I was numb to the throbbing pain, and the steady thrum of the boiler. My thoughts were totally out of sync with how I felt, so I’d started writing them down. It was disorienting. I couldn’t remember why, but I was absolutely certain I wasn’t in control of my bugs. I couldn’t remember how, specifically, but I was absolutely certain I wasn’t on my own. There were four people in the room: Weld, Kid Win, Clockblocker and Vista. Weld was in the company of the Travelers, across the street from headquarters. I could see how he was with his His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her stare hard. "No. I’m assuming it’s going to stay pretty much as it is, and that this is the way things are going to remain. People are going to come after you, whether you like it or not. Go through your routine as you normally would. Deal with the shit that you’d feel guilty about. Deal with the stuff that you’d feel shame for failing to handle." "You don’t know me," Weld protested. "You’d better believe it, or you’re going to wear yourself out, and I don’t think you’re very likable, dork. You do know that I’d flunked high school, right? That I’d come up with a string of criminal acts despite my father’s pleas not to? I’d gotten in trouble for something that most people wouldn’t even consider?" "You’re implying that’s the same person that you were before you met me," Weld said. "That person is your past self," Shadow Stalker replied. "Okay, that’s interesting," Weld said. "You got me. So what’s the problem with me?" "Everything, below the surface, that you’re aware of?" "I’m your friend, not family." "You’re my friend, even if I don’t know what you’re all about. Even if I don’t know what you’re going to do in the future, I want you to know that I’m going to do what I can to make it up to you, and if I can’t, I’ll still do what I can, because I care about you." "I’m not sure I’m that type. I don’t like nor understand many of the major players, but I’m not stupid, and I’m not trying to make friends with you by association." Weld sighed. "I’m not saying you don’t have any friends, but you don’t have any by all of the major His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not oblivious." "Play along, but let’s not forget the dead. We got Chevalier, apparently. But can you really trust her? You’ve got to remember the kids." "I can’t," Weld said. "But if I were her, I’d be praying five nights a week, and I’d be spending most of my time in the company of the fish." "If you were her, you wouldn’t have lasted five weeks," a cape said. He had a Southern draw to his voice. Purity. Who was the man, though? Weld turned around, and his body language was unmistakeable. His face was etched with determination, and his jaw was set, his shoulders slumped. He met Purity’s eyes. "If I was her, I’d be praying five nights a week, and I’d be spending most of my time in the company of the fish. If I was dead, you’d have about ak your head to the cutters and men who are working on the bottom floor, getting things ready for the reconstruction efforts." "Dead because you’ve got no idea what you’re doing, dead because you’re a burden to the team, not enough to look after them." Weld sighed. "I don’t think you understand what’s going on. I’ His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her stare hard. "Good," Weld replied, with no emotion or sign of any sort of regret. "Because as I’m saying, there’s going to be ass-backwards from here on out." Becoming a hero? For a little while, he’d almost wished he hadn’t. Pausing, he asked, "What were you talking about? You’re going to pass judgement on me, aren’t you, Weld?" "I’m not going to tell you what I think. That’s your business with your team. But I can say this much. If you’d let me know what you thought of my offer, I think you’d be inclined to agree. Your skills, your personality, it’s the sort of thing that might work on a team, with you as the only veteran. Your durability, it’s the sort of thing that might work against you, given the right crisis. I think you’d be pleasantly surprised." "You say I should assume it’s a workable solution?" "No. I’m not saying anything of the sort. I’m just asking you for your opinion. Am I understood?" Paige hesitated. "It’s fine," he said. "Thank you." "I’d like to think it’s a workable solution," she said. "Very good. I hope it isn’t too difficult to arrange?" "I hope it isn’t," he said. He watched on the screen as the civilians were evacuated. "Whatever. Pa." He didn’t like the sound of that, of his daughter telling another civilian. "Call it by another name, if you want to keep it private." "It’s fine," she said. "Is it?" "Yes," he said. He watched on the screen as the number was read out, followed by the man who had asked the question. "It’s too dangerous," she said. "I can’t speak for the others, but I can say this much. Pipedream, His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to keep walking, talking, but I’m going to follow you. If you keep walking, talking about going back, I’m not sure we can catch you." Weld only glared. "Okay," Clockblocker spoke, after a few seconds of deliberation, "Bow down before me. Here, Missy. Palm your hand away from your mouth. It’s begging to say, and I can’t be bothered to stop you. Here’s the deal, though. I’ve read the files on your teammates, I’ve seen the dances. I know you’ve been in one, or you’re so blurry on the facial features that it’s hard to tell. So I’m going to be blunt. You’re one of the scariest dudes around." She stared down at her feet. "You and I are not on the same side. So in the interest of finding a way to protect both of us, perhaps limiting our involvement to maybe a few key members of the Protectorate, maybe even one or two members, I’m going to ask you to stay out of it. The Phoenix Branch is currently looking for three male His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m not oblivious." "What I meant was that I wasn’t expecting them to keep at it. And I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their job entirely." "I could see that," Kid Win spoke, sounding pleasantly surprised. "You were talking about them not giving up." "They’re keeping it together. I wouldn’t have minded too much if they were polling the members of their team to see who could shoulder the brunt of the duties. They’re not, but things are more streamlined. Still, I don’t see the point." Kid Win leaned back in his seat. "You don’t seem too worried about the toll it’ll take on your body, about your back or shoulders or stomach if you push yourself to use that much force." "No. Not at all." "Oh my lord," Weld said, "I’m worried I’m going to have a stroke and I won’t be able to look you in the eye and tell you I’m not going to put up with it." "You won’t." "You’ve seen enough of me to know I don’t keep secrets." Clockblocker crossed the room, and he made his way to Weld’s chair. He rested his elbows on the metal surface and stared at the data. "I spoke of him not being the focus His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I’m-" "Play along, Clockblocker. You’re replacing them. He’s already made grave mistakes, doing the bidding of the Simurgh, and with the praise he’s getting, it’s almost making him want to do it all over again. Failures, maybe, but mistakes nonetheless." "So I want us to fail, then?" I asked. "Yeah," he spoke, as if from completely out of place among his peers. His gravitas, his authority, it made me feel like I was back in school, having just woken them up for a class. "It’s a loss, but a loss. I’m-" "Let me finish. It’s a loss. We deserve a loss." "We’re not going to make the next page of the Richter scale," he said. "Because we have the experience, because I’ve worked with Richter before and he’s our best programmer at the moment, and because I’ve worked with you guys and you guys have been exemplary. We’re good, and I’m confident we can hit our targets." I nodded. "Go," he said. "Rachel, help me grab equipment. I’ll tell you where to go, and you can run your own risk. You should go, if you can run safe." She nodded. I grabbed her hand and His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This is it. There’s no way around it. We’ve been through worse, and this is the point where we get the most punishment, where the authorities can’t really stop us from getting a reputation as a group anymore. We’ll stay in the same category as the Merchants, with the S.O.S. and break any and all laws if we have to. The government is going to make it a habit to not enforce the law strictly against us, and that’s going to spread." I’d been in a bad headspace like this, she’d told me. I’d been in bad headspaces before, in small ways. I nodded. "I don’t agree, but I get the impression you’re trying to invoke your dead pet’s trust. It makes it clearer what you’re wanting to accomplish. Maybe you’re drafting this." "I’d appreciate it if you could tell me what you were trying to accomplish," Shadow Stalker replied. "I’m trying to set things in motion. If you could, I’d be more willing to answer any questions," I told her. "There’s a reason we’re here, and it’s not just to get the information we need to fix this. Corporations are trying to stir things up, and their lines of communication are getting shorter and the distances between them larger. There’s less room for error, and things can get ugly." "I’m trying to set things in motion, not to irritate you. I’m figuring out the minimum I can do, so we’ll be in a position to act when that happens." This was why we needed to cooperate, I thought. But was she willing to play ball? "Then I’ll need to ask my comrades for assistance. I think the capes who were in the south end of the city to help with the wounded will do." "Who?" "I don’t know. Ask, if you have questions." His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Shadow Stalker spoke, placing a hand on Vista’s head as she walked past the girl, "I’ll start my patrol, go with Clock to make sure he gets home and that he has some backup. You can relieve me when I’m back, maybe get Clockblocker to go with you." "Thank you," Vista’s voice piped up, with a definite note of relief. Helplessly, Weld watched as the team split up to go their separate ways, Kid Win sitting down at the far end of the computer station, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker heading for the elevator. "I fucked up. I already lost them," Weld spoke, mostly to himself. "No. They’re just tired," Vista spoke from beside him. "And not just lack of sleep. You’ll see what I His team was there, each with their masks off. Clockblocker sat in a chair at the huge computer to the right of the room, swiveled to check out their new arrival, then stood, folding his arms. Red haired, freckled, thin lipped, he wore a costume that was all white, with animated images of clock faces on it. A white helmet sat on the counter of the computer terminal. Shadow Stalker was leaning against a wall, thumbing through a smartphone. She had one foot against the wall, one arm folded just under her chest, her free hand resting in the crook of her other elbow. She looked up at him, stuck the phone in a pouch on her belt. She was dark-skinned, pretty, and from what he could see beneath her costume and her voluminous cloak, she had a nice body. Athletic figure. A part of Weld’s adolescent psyche was relieved that there was some eye candy here. Kid Win and Vista arrived from what the ‘cubicles’ at the far end of the spacious room. They weren’t really cubicles, but sectioned off areas with beds and room for personal effects. The base in Boston had been similar. Kid Win was in civilian clothes, brown-haired, ruddy cheeked in a way that suggested he had been exercising until just recently. Very normal looking. Vista was in pyjamas, her hair tied back into a ponytail. He’d had someone as young as her on his team in Boston, but the boy had been a Thinker, a limited precog content to work and communicate with them from their command station. This girl had been out in the field – three fingers on her left hand were bandaged, with crimson seeping in through the white. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying until very recently. Should he comment on that? Offer support? He wasn’t sure what to say, if it would even be welcome. "Hello," he spoke. He received a chorus of muttered and murmured greetings in return. "Look," he said, "I won’t make a big deal of this. The guys upstairs want me in charge. It’s going to take me a short while to get up to speed, but I hope to prove to you guys that I can and will work as hard as anyone." It was hard to say what he’d expected, but surely he should have gotten more of a response than some blank stares and glazed looks. Was it the wrong time for this? Every single one of them looked dog tired. Clockblocker looked like he was barely managing to stand. "From everything I’ve heard, you guys are an excellent team, and I hope I can do you justice as a leader. It’s my hope that we can improve on a winning formula. I’ve talked to the director about some special training-" "Training?" Clockblocker interrupted, "You just lost me." "If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll like the idea." "Have you seen the situation out there?" Clockblocker challenged him, "Less than an hour ago, I saved a guy I know from my high school physics class from being dragged into an alley by a half-dozen grown men. One of them stuck him with a needle before I got him away from them. The Hospitals are shut down or over capacity, so I brought him here. He’s upstairs right now, getting drugs to ensure he doesn’t get HIV." Weld struggled to find something to say, failed. Clockblocker went on, "Kid Win and I stopped some lunatics in gas masks from mixing ammonia and bleach into a poison gas. You know why? They wanted to off the people in an apartment block so they could loot the place and stay there. There’s people going fucking crazy out there, and you’re talking training." "I didn’t mean now," Weld protested, backpedaling, "I was thinking in terms of the future. The training would be something to look forward to, after this crisis has passed." "You’re assuming it’s going to pass," Shadow Stalker replied, her voice tired. "Some are saying this is the way things are going to stay. I almost agree with them. This isn’t the kind of city that bounces back from things." I’m losing them. "I can’t believe that. We’ve got to have hope." "Pull a fifteen hour patrol out there, then come back and talk to me about hope," Clockblocker spoke. "You know, I could almost play along. Go with the blind optimism, say yippee to training. But you don’t even mention the guy you’re replacing? A few words for the dead? It’s a matter of respect, bro." "I didn’t mean to dismiss them or their sacrifice. I just didn’t know them, and-" Clockblocker turned, swiping his arm angrily at his helmet to snatch it off the counter. Tucking it under one arm, he spoke to the others, his back to Weld, "I’m going to check on my family. I’ll head there in costume, in case I run into trouble, be back in the morning. Mind manning the console, Kid?" Kid Win shook his head, "I need to take a break anyways." Vista glanced at Weld, then asked, "Where do you guys need me?" "Go sleep," Clockblocker said, returning to his computer. He kicked off his shoes and let himself slump down on his bed. Vista glanced at him, then asked, "I’m lost. You want me to help you, maybe? I’m here if you need me." She nodded. He went to his room and hit the power button on his helmet. He opened his eyes to see Kid Win standing in the doorway, ready to fire a rocket at the intruding figure. "Good to see you, Weld," Clockblocker said. The boy froze as he turned his head. "It’s good to see you, Weld. You’re going to have to be if you want me to come by your place to talk to you." "I have other things to try." "Survival of the fittest,