“Good throws,” I said. Crystal was standing with her back to me. She’d tossed them over her shoulder. “You can turn around.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Don’t spend too much time. It’s late, it’s dark, people won’t care too much.”

“I won’t. Where does the other Earth and the war fit into this?” I asked. I pulled out a pair of white boots. Shoes meant for a costume might have worked better, but I tended to prefer boots for the fact that they stayed on better with hard landings, kicks, and rough falls. Fourteen-year-old Glory Girl had learned that lesson: it was terminally embarrassing to have a petty criminal watch as you flew over to your lost shoe and put it back on.

“The workers called a stop to all work. They’re holding the houses, equipment, and building materials hostage, with some suggestion they’ll destroy it all before they give up what they’re owed,” Crystal said. “The last big convoy of materials and trucks were from another Earth, and they’re part of what’s being held hostage. The delivery folk from Earth-K aren’t budging because they aren’t abandoning their delivery, even though they’ve been told they can go. The government from United States of K is getting upset because their people aren’t home, That’s where the murmurings of war are coming from. Workers aren’t conceding anything else, and construction groups aren’t either.”

“And our job is to make sure the stalemate stays stale and mate until people find a resolution,” I said, pulling on the boots.

“Or mitigate the damage if it gets ugly,” Crystal said.

I did up the straps, reached for the belts, all arranged around a metal ring, and found one I was satisfied with almost right away. Utility-belt style with small pouches. I tore open the bag of masks.

The masks were ones that were meant to be stuck to the face. Remove protective tape, stick to face like cosmetic band-aids. Not my favorite, but I got why they did it when they sent out sample packs. The glue would wear out quickly, and the real custom masks for long-term wear would then be ordered. Quality was fine, though. All in white, again, some with lenses.

I found one that fit around my eyes and covered my eyebrows, with white lenses, and held it up to make sure the white lenses didn’t obscure vision any. A faint halo when I looked at sources of illumination, but nothing too bad.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think you look more like you than I’ve seen you in a long time,” she said.

“Maybe I’m meant to wear a costume,” I said.