“Meaning that if we wanted to keep an eye out for people who might know what happened, we might keep an eye out for people with money,” Sveta said. “Or a lot of resources. Like Mortari.”

Jeanne Wynn and her assistant. Citrine and the Number Man.

“Or Teacher,” I added.

“Which kind of dovetails into what we were talking about before,” Sveta said. “If—is that okay to bring up?”

“Yeah,” I said. Let’s minimize the secrets.

People were paying attention, finishing off their meals if they’d been doing a lion’s share of the talking, as Kenzie and Tristan had, or picking at their fries and sides, if they’d been mostly quiet.

“Let’s talk about shifting gears,” I said.

“Shifting gears how?” Rain asked.

⊙

Foresight. Shepherds. Advance Guard. The three biggest teams that acted as teams. The Wardens might have counted, but the Wardens weren’t present, and I wasn’t sure they were a team by definition.

There were smaller teams too. The Major Malfunctions. The Lone Wolf Pack. Paint Fumes. Super Magic Dream Parade. The Keepers of Peace. Green and Bear It. The Homonculus Three. The High Road. The Fifth Brigade.

This had started out with just a discussion with Foresight. We’d cooperated the most in the past. They’d been there when Amy had left with the prison population.

From there, it had been a question of selling things to the Shepherds, led by Moonsong, who had her doubts about Tristan, and to Advance Guard, who had their doubts about me.

Once we had the big teams on board, it had been a question of figuring out who would accept, and who would refuse. The Major Malfunctions were easy. Eager, looking to help. Others?

Others were scared.

These guys, who were approaching to stand in front of me and the rest of Breakthrough, looked scared.

The leader was hardest to read, because his bodysuit was skintight, capped off with a helmet that hugged his head, an opaque black visor covering his face. The decoration was also the wiring that connected his nervous system to the enormous portal that he wore on his back, the size of a pair of motorcycles. It was only by the device’s hovering capability that he was able to venture indoors with it, though the pack did scrape up against the sides of any door he passed through. A young teammate of his had a tall, musclebound brute projection around and above her, carrying the weapon that went with the portal. The third member of the group wore a bodysuit that was so heavily decorated that the theme was lost in the jumble, all whites, reds, blues, and oranges, with some revolving segments. The mask looked like a door knocker, complete with a heavy metal ring.

“This is ominous,” Accession said. The machine at his back whirred, as if reacting to his emotions.

I held out the pamphlet we’d put together. One for every team.