And, being where she was, she could turn on the monitor, maneuver the trackball to the internet icon, and see it was back. There was some connection, but it was yellow, marked low priority. That was pretty usual for when big emergencies happened.

She typed out a response, leaning over to glance out the window at the figure. It wasn’t moving.

The delay after her message was sent ate at her.

Then the reply, from Antares.

‘We’re waiting and seeing.’

It didn’t ease her worries, exactly, but if Antares was replying, then things couldn’t be that bad.

She confirmed the pack opening, closed the game, and then called out, “Mom, Dad! They replied!”

⊙

Lookout moved her ‘hands’, and through the link that Darlene provided, Candy could feel the motions in hand and attached finger, and moved appropriately.

“C, apostrophe, one one, two, four, eight, sixteen, one one…”

“I think you’re making this up,” Candy said, her hand moving to hit the keys. When she wasn’t sure she waited for the word that told her what she was supposed to be hitting.

“I am making this up,” Lookout said. “I make stuff up and make that stuff work. That’s what tinkering is.”

“What are you even doing?”

“Flying a broken camera. It needs coordinates. See?”

“That looks like a screen that’s half black, half blue, and covered in gibberish.”

“Ground, air, and data. Calling it a camera is like calling a Swiss Army knife a knife, which it is, you use it for the knife a lot, but I want to know everything I’m missing out on. I switch modes and—”

“Clear picture,” Candy said. She looked over her shoulder at where Chicken Little was sleeping in the bed across from Lookout’s. He’d been medicated so he could actually sleep. They were keeping the mask on, but there were bandages now.

Darlene had settled into the chair by his bed. It was the comfortable, puffy sort of chair, and her feet were up on the seat with her. Two blankets were gathered up and around her legs and her lap, piled up to almost chin height, and another was on the top of the chair, pulled down a bit so it covered her head and shoulders.

She wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t accepting medication, on excuse of needing to help Lookout, and she wasn’t taking her eyes off of Chicken Little.

“Blink, Dar.”

Darlene closed her eyes, then opened them.

“Focus,” Lookout said. “Look, clear picture.”

“Sec,” Candy dismissed her.

“Ughhhhh. This is important! The mayor showed up! And she has people, and—”

“Shhh!” a nurse said, from the hallway. There were two capes from Victoria’s mom’s team by the door, standing guard.

Candy focused instead on Darlene, counting the seconds. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

“Blink more than the one time, Darlene,” Candy said.

Darlene pulled a hand out from under the covers, and gave Candy the finger.