“I worry about you,” I said. “This classified mission to places unmentioned.”

“It’s not classified, I’m just… not supposed to talk about it. Because of orders.”

“It’s classified.”

“They haven’t used that word.”

“Be safe,” I said.

“I’ll try.”

She gave me a hug, coming in from the side so as not to jostle or bump the sling.

We parted, and I flew backward, watching as she flew away, until she was just a speck in the distance.

I put my phone away. Now that I wasn’t being bullied mid-flight by my big cousin, I was free to keep an eye on where I was going. The portal slashing through Norfair was one thing—I termed it a ‘slash’ because it was thinner than some of the others. There were more clouds in the sky on the far side. I flew over it, giving it a wide berth to be safe.

Past the portal, the endless sea of city was harder to navigate. I looked for landmarks. The financial buildings with the shopping center we’d been in yesterday was a new one for me. Kenzie’s area was a bit to the north of it. Norwalk.

I kept an eye out for and found the Norfair community center. I knew the location, and the yellow tarps that were still around the damaged portions of the building were very visible from the air, especially given its relative proximity to the water. It had been one thing I’d kept an eye on on my prior flights across the Megalopolis.

The Norfair community center was the middle ground between Norwalk and Fairfield. Play structures of painted wood and bars were a good clue I was in the right place. The building from above resembled what I’d seen with a check online.

I landed a few blocks away and walked the rest of the way.

Kids were out and playing, many wearing hooded sweatshirts or jackets. A handful of adults were out, spread out to see more of the play area.

I approached the fence. Kids saw me, and an adult took notice. An older woman, with gray hair and clothes of the super comfortable, easy sort that fit a barely mobile ninety-year-old, rather than what I presumed was a seventy-year-old.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here about Chris Elman.”

She pointed, “Talk to her. She knows him.”

I walked along the fence until I reached a woman who was handling some of the five to eleven-year-olds at the edge of the sandbox. They looked like a pretty vicious bunch.