She turned. With the way the light came through the tunnel, I could see the eye symbol on her chest in a slightly different shade of purple, hidden where the vertical bar met the horizontal, and the shadows meant I could no longer see her eyes or expression. Maintaining the same tone, she said, “No, you’re not surprised. You know full well they’re well positioned too. They’re doing their own things. They’re still a resource I can and will tap.”

“Gotcha,” I said.

“But I think you were trying to get a jab in, and that’s a good sign this conversation has run its course. I’ll wish you good luck in your endeavors, whether you join a big team or end up making those sandwiches. So long as you stay out of my way.”

“Out of curiosity,” I said. I saw her pause, just as she was about to turn to walk away. I continued, “Do you regret your part in what happened with my sister?”

“Do you?” she asked, without missing a beat.

“Absolutely,” I said, without any more hesitation than she’d shown.

“Be sure to call before you set foot in my neighborhood again. You and your friend have a nice flight home.”

Friend? My first thought was that she meant my autonomous forcefield, that she was personifying it.

Then I realized who she really meant. Just as surprising that she would be aware, but not as alarming.

She hadn’t answered my question, but I hadn’t expected an answer. She and Snuff walked to the parking lot, turning the corner there. Behind me, the gunman was walking back to his table.

My impression was that I was better off heading the way I’d come than I was leaving.

The moment I didn’t have the roof of the tunnel over my head, I took to the air.

I was high enough that I could see the entirety of Tattletale’s realm, and where the city was bleeding into and through the mountains and forest to connect to other areas and the remainder of the Megalopolis. I could see the boats on the water, like ants on an anthill, the black smoke, and the patches that gleamed with a forced luster.

It wasn’t home. The worst of the fucking racists were gone, I had to hope, but the rest of the bad stuff seemed to be firmly entrenched in there.

I drew my phone from my pocket. I put the one earbud in, some music to drown out my thoughts while I steadied myself.

Me:
Did you record all of that?

A dark shape flew within a foot of me. For an instant, I thought it might have been one of the small birds that had arrived with Tattletale.