Marcus pointed at the fliers that hovered and darted through the city, single-pilot fighters and five-man gunships, swarming like angry bees. “They have Rotors?” He hadn’t seen a flying vehicle since before the Break.

“This city is just one horrible revelation after another,” said Woolf. As if to prove his point, another Rotor hovered into view around a tall building, much bigger than the others. “That one’s a transport,” he said, backing away from the window. “It’s coming this way—they must be coming for General Trimble.” The soldiers dropped out of the window’s field of view and backed away. A stray bullet cracked a hole in the window and shattered the wall above Marcus’s head, and he threw himself prone on the floor. “Up and out,” said Woolf. “We’ve got to get to the center of the building—into the waiting room.” The soldiers ran through the door in practiced formation, staying low and finding cover with a trained fluidity that used to make Marcus feel safe, but now only seemed like a pale imitation of the Partials’ superior precision. He followed them through, staying close to Woolf, wishing he had a gun and knowing it wouldn’t do him any good.

A small Rotor darted over the skylight, machine guns firing, and Marcus heard an explosion as either it or its target went down. He had no idea which, or even which team was which. The coloring on the vehicles all seemed the same to him. He heard another explosion, from a different part of the city, and the sounds of gun and artillery fire ebbed and flowed in the background. It made Marcus feel blind and helpless, crouching behind a low bench, knowing that something was happening, without knowing who was shooting at what, or why, or where any of them were.

Another light Rotor flew past the skylight. A gunship followed moments later, in a perpendicular path. A dark shadow fell over the waiting room, and a deep thrum above them vibrated powerfully through the building.

“We don’t want to be here,” said Woolf.

The big transport Rotor hovered into view, filling the skylight, and too late Marcus realized that it was coming down, hard and fast through the center of it. The metal hull shattered the skylight in the same instant that the far doors flew open and the building’s defenders flooded in. A turret gun on the transport unleashed a hail of fire on the defenders, but they had already moved to the side half a second earlier. Gull ports in the sides of the transport swung open before the hull even touched the floor, and armored Partials leapt out, guns blazing.