I looked at the various capes, debating my options. I worried that flying up to say hello to the one at the end of the pole would spook him and make him fall from his roost, and I wasn’t that keen on flying.

That left two options. The tinker or the teenage girl with the moon iconography.

I made my way toward the girl, because she had less people around her. The crowd was a bit of a tide I had to work against.

“Stuck?” I heard a voice.

I turned my head. It was a man with tattoos, a cleft chin and eyes that looked like he was perpetually squinting, even in the shade of the gate that housed the Bet–Gimel portal. He was talking to a couple.

“It’s a big decision. We’re not farmers.”

“It’s hard, getting started again,” the guy with the tattoos said. “The tent cities are rough, while you wait for an available apartment. You can work your ass off, earn fake ‘dollars’ that might not have value in a few weeks or months, you sweat, you hurt, and everyone around you is doing the same. Stinks, when everyone’s working that hard and getting only a few minutes to shower.”

“We’ve heard of things like that.”

“If you want another option, we’ve got a settlement at Canaan. Small city, even. Or a big town. We’ve got extra rooms, food, and dangerously strong alcohol. We’re still trying to figure that out.”

I heard the rustle of papers.

“Canaan?” I asked.

“Yes. Have you been?”

“I’ve heard stories,” I said. I turned to the couple, “I’m ninety percent sure the Canaan area is Fallen territory. Outskirts of the Megalopolis.”

“We’re not really holding fast to all of that anymore,” the guy with the tattoos said. “We said the world would end, we tried to draw attention to it, the world ended, we were right. Now we make the best of things.”

“That seems like a pretty skewed take,” I said.

He rolled his eyes as he looked away from me. He turned back to the couple. “You have the directions. Easy to catch a bus to New Haven, catch another bus to the Hartford Stretch. Go to the address, we almost always have someone with a ride waiting there for the buses, to drive you into Canaan. The hard work has been done, it’s easier, it’s more fun, and there’s actual community. It’s one of the things that’s strangely missing from most parts in this city. You’ll notice that.”

“Maybe,” the guy from the couple said. “I’ll keep this.”

“McVeay, Crowley, or Mathers?” I asked.

The guy shot me an annoyed look. “What?”