“Then the next closest Earth, or a share of all the connected Earths. Enough to do widespread damage.”

The wounded man sat down heavily on the grass-less hillside.

“You said the ammunition was the point.”

“The best analogy I can think of is the idea we had of putting all garbage on a rocket and shooting it into space, so we don’t have to have landfills. This guy is shooting in the same way.”

“Disposing of atmospheres,” Valkyrie said the thought aloud. “That helps. Thank you.”

“No prob. That’s really all I’ve got. Oh, and if you’re going up, you want to go up through the tower, not outside of it. Most defense is aimed at protecting against external attack.”

“Thank you.” She dismissed the shadow with a thought.

Do you need anything? she thought, pushing the thought into the space where the shadows lived.

No, came the distant reply.

I’ll get to you soon.

I don’t mind. I was never very good at asking authorities for help. I got patient.

“Why?” the wounded man asked.

“I intend to find out. Will you walk with me?”

The wounded man nodded, falling into step beside her. Behind them, the tower continued to bleed out atmosphere, screaming the cry of a hundred thousand metal panels straining to their limits, roaring with the rush of wind and internal tinker technology.

He was the first to say anything, “We’ve got sixteen parahumans and twenty non-parahuman staff at the camp here. Nerves are shot, morale is nil. Nine of them got seriously injured trying to investigate. I need to know what to tell them. Telling them that a team of tinkers or whoever are aiming to shoot all of the Earths’ air into space isn’t going to fly.”

“Tell them nothing except that their job is done. My team will handle it. If I can’t resolve this, there won’t be anything your coalition can do. Eat the good food you were rationing out, drink. The more you consume, the less you need to take back.”

The wounded man nodded, but he looked worried. He hurried forward to get to the gate and hold it open for her.

The main tent was a gathering place and a dining hall both. People were gathered out front and at tables within. Out front was fine, with only a few oddities, like a handful of people in costume standing up as she approached.

Within the mess tent was a different story. The tension in the room was palpable. The capes on duty took up three quarters of the tent, sitting at their tables or standing nearby. Cards and some of the food from the were scattered across the surfaces. There wasn’t a buzz of conversation, and there was a noticeable gap between the people at the three tables and the denizens of the last table, furthest from the tent’s opening.