It smelled bad. Like shit that had been eaten, puked out, eaten again, and laced with sour garbage smells and other general human smells. There was something perfumey in it, too. Like air freshener or a shampoo, but cloying, seemingly designed to trick the nose and tastebuds into thinking that there was no need to shut down or ignore things anymore, just so they involuntarily opened up to the greater odor.

A trace of something minty or fruity followed by a punch of a smell like old man diaper soaked in month-old tuna water. And we weren’t even close to the source. He had passed thirty feet over us in a form that apparently wasn’t about the gas or the stench, and that was it.

“A lot of activity,” Rain managed, his own hand over his lower face now.

“Last patrol before shift change. We stay here.”

He nodded.

Next part is going to be hard. Adapting to new schedules and patterns.

“It’s worth it?”

“I think so,” Rain said. He ran his hand between hood and head, over his shorn head. “I’m getting Love Lost and Cradle, at least. I feel it hitting home, when I push to full strength. I feel it if I touch Tattletale by mistake. I don’t feel it with others. Tristan, kind of. I think it’s Tristan. Except they only took his midsection.”

“Emotions are rooted in all kinds of places,” I said. I thought of how many times I’d felt bad feelings start in my gut, or end up there.

Rain clenched his fists, tiny mechanical hand squeaking. “Damn it. I’m going to lose track of people, moving away like this. There are a lot who don’t react. But some do. I try to find them, gradually increase the pressure.”

“I did say to go easy on the soldiers.”

“I don’t have the patience to go that easy,” he said. “If we get caught we’re going to have to fight, or you’re going to have to fight. If I haven’t gotten anything done by then, then this is all for nothing.”

“Let me worry about us getting caught. You focus on what’s indoors. Be patient.”

“Turning the screws is getting to some people. One keeps talking to their superior, pointing at the orb. They might up and leave.”

“Okay. But I know emotion powers. People react in different ways. This isn’t us hitting one billiard ball with another and calculating the trajectory. They’re people. Every person is built differently.”

“There’s a guy who sits apart from the rest of his squad. Brought a hunk of wood with him.”

“The lumberjack. I saw him.”

“Whittles this round of wood with branches sticking out. Gets more agitated the more I work on him. Like you said. Different reactions to the same things.”

“Go easy,” I murmured.

“Imagine if he got pissed off enough to pick a fight,” Rain said. “There are people who are ready to leave.”