“Part of this. Except for a select few, like Precipice, Swansong, Monokeros, and Crystalclear.”

“Crystalclear is onboard,” Byron said. He was at his laptop, hunched over it. “Foresight just emailed me. They’re ready when we are.”

“And the teams we put on people related to the prison and around the prison are on standby,” I said. Kenzie’s arm pointed up and waved around, less focused on the specific target than it was indicating a series of overlapping maps. The teams were represented by icons. All of the ones who’d been planted in nearby areas of the Megalopolis were now stationed within a few blocks of the first of the two portals.

We’d identified our correctional officer because he knew the pharmacist well enough to be one of the first people she’d communicated with once through the portal. Now, through him and the course he traveled, with information backed up from our series of ‘dominoes’, people we’d already noted as likely Teacher-compromised, because of their contact with those confirmed as compromised, we were able to confirm our suspicions on most counts. Each person was marked with a ‘T’ in a silvery-blue circle over their heads.

“Phones?” I asked.

“Still blocked. Only a few people have noticed but they’re treating it like it’s an ordinary thing,” Kenzie said. “None of them are our targets.”

Byron fidgeted. Natalie was beside him, and she looked even more nervous.

I was nervous, and I couldn’t even imagine how they felt.

Unspoken in this equation was Goddess. We were working on the Teacher issue, and we were all on the same page with it. When Goddess stepped in…

I wasn’t even sure.

“Things are going to get messy soon,” Kenzie said.

My head turned.

On the screen, it was Ashley on one side, and Rain on the other. She was telling them, so they could be ready.

“We’ll do what little we can to keep the peace,” Rain said.

“Or if it comes to it, we take out the people who insist on taking advantage of any lack of peace,” Ashley said.

The officer was walking briskly toward a stairwell, taking them two at a time on his way up to the top floor of the admin building.

“Is Foresight ready?”

“I think so,” Byron said.

The prison had administration like any business did, though the ranks sounded like military ones, they were closer to being a business in reality. The warden was like the C.E.O., the deputy warden like the vice president, and in this case, the assistant warden was their equivalent to their chief financial officer, with some added responsibilities.

Our red-haired correctional officer with the receding hairline and the worry lines across his forehead walked past the assistant warden’s office, where the man within was doing paperwork, glancing up for only a moment. He went straight to the deputy warden’s office, knocking on her open door.