When June woke up the next morning, she just lay in her bed for a bit.

How can I find Mom… She couldn’t find her in Darktown—even if she did, June knew that there was no way she could get out of Darktown again, not with someone who was actively fighting her.

But here…

The City was different. If Mom was in the city, June could probably find her, especially if Teacher helped. And then…

I don’t know. Talk to her? Try to find out why the hell she was with that cult? Make her see?

June rolled off the bed and stood up in the room, stretching like she had every day when she’d been alive. If I was still alive… Right now would be the time she was getting ready for Cheer practice. In the morning, either out on the field or in the gym, depending on the weather. Nancy would be talking about the newest thing on TV, Sandy would be yelling about her current boyfriend. Coach Willis would be getting them in line…

June smiled. Some of them had Moved On, some of them were still here in the City. She didn’t think any had fallen to Darktown.

It doesn’t matter. It’s time to find Mom and deal with this. With that, June dressed and headed to the door. It wouldn't do to be late for their meeting.

She avoided the elevators, heading down to the rickety stairs. June paused as a mother headed up the stairs, followed by a gaggle of children. They had bloody eyes, a sign that they had been killed on the same day June died. One child was playing with a tablet…

Not a real tablet, just their memory of one.

By the time June made it to the ground floor, most of the morning rush had ended. She walked out onto the street and pulled her key out, summoning the bike. June put her safety helmet on—What, I’m going to need protection? I’m dead!—and got onto the bike, before she zipped away from her home, heading for the more crowded parts of the City.

For Monument Square.

----------------------------------------

The City was made of memories, and what had more memory associated with them than the monuments erected to the glory of their people? Long before June arrived at the square, she saw the monuments looming out of the overcast sky, impossibly large. If the physical monuments had been in the square, they would be dwarfed by their reflections. June drove past the Sphinx, its head rising above the skyscraper next to it, not scarred and aged, but gleaming with the color that it had once borne when it had been newly built. Beyond that was the Statue of Liberty, clouds wreathing the blazing torch.

Well, that’s another thing about memory. Here, the torch really was a torch.

June pulled to the side of Times Square, looking around to see where her friends were. A group of young children ran past, followed by a harassed-looking woman.

Mother or someone who dreamed of being a mother? June shook her head. It wasn’t her business. What was…

“June!” June saw Hank waving by a small outdoor diner, the furnishings dating from the New York of the 1930s. She ran across the square, dodging people, the miles turning to feet as she headed for her friends.

“Ever been in an Automat before?”

“No…”

“Good, neither has Teacher, c’mon in,” Hank said. June followed him into the clean interior, white tiles gleaming under neon lights. The far end had a wall studded with doors, food sitting behind them, visible through the glass windows. “Welcome to fast food for the forties.”

“Right,” June said. She frowned, looking at the items, and then chose a slice of cake and a bottle of cola.

“Good thing you don’t have real teeth,” Hank said. “Because if you did, every dead dentist in town would be heading here.”

June rolled her eyes and headed for the far table where Sally was eating a ham sandwich and…

Teacher was sipping coffee, his form still indistinct under his hood. He glanced up at June. “The City has changed much since I last entered it.”

“Yeah,” June said. “Bit of a population explosion.”

“Not just that. There have been earlier surges, but this one, in addition to being the last surge of humanity, is more cosmopolitan than any I remember.” Teacher tilted his head. “But finish your meal and we shall speak of what must be done.”

June nodded, biting into her cake. It tasted…

Well, like cake. You didn’t think whoever made this would give of his deep memories, did you? It was a good cake, but it didn’t have the resonance of joy and fear that say, a wedding cake would have.

Which is good, because I’m not married. June finished her meal, waiting for Sally to finish. When they were all done, June turned to Teacher.

“Why here? Can’t we plan back at your place?”

“Not as effectively. My domicile is located far from the busy regions of the City, along with those spirits who are… content to some degree with their existence.”

Stolen story; please report.

Mary. June nodded.

“But your mother was drawn to Darktown, to whatever power is holding her, by dissatisfaction. It would be difficult to draw her into that region of the City.

“So we need to go to Darktown?” Hank asked.

“That would be folly. No, we must find your mother when she has exited from Darktown. We will construct a finding here, and then see if we can locate her.”

“Why here?” June asked. “Isn’t a bit noisy?”

“That is why. We are attempting to find what remains of your mother, the parts that call from her life. The noisy parts. And here you can use these memories.” Teacher paused, and his eyes brightened under his hood. “And of course, I thought the trip would do you good.”

“Right.” June nodded. “Any idea where I should do it? I don’t want to get run over.”

“Notre Dame would be a good location.” Teacher said.

“Right.”

It wouldn’t be a long walk—after all, Notre Dame, like the other monuments and memories, wanted people to come to it. Darktown tried to keep you lost in winding streets, while the City, especially parts like this, helped you get where you wanted to be.

And it did. A few moments later, they were in front of the gleaming cathedral. June stared at it. It was changing from second to second, the collected memories of millions of people remaking it. Not dramatically, but sometimes the stained glass windows gleamed brighter, and other times the gargoyles seemed to look down on the crowds in the square with predatory interest. Teacher lead them onto the grounds and then around the structure. June paused as they came to the banks of the River. Looking down it, she saw Paris, or rather the mish-mash of time periods that the neighborhood had adopted.

Just like any city, reflecting the memories of those who had lived and died there, and June wasn’t about to wonder why there was a river here that didn’t exist when they’d walked onto the cathedral grounds.

Like her apartment building, trying to hold the City to the standards that ruled in the Living Lands would just give you a headache.

"Here we are,” Teacher said. “This spot should be good.”

June stared at the little wooded space between the cathedral and the river.

“Call a memory of your mother,” Teacher said. He reached into his robes and produced a single obsidian orb. “I have prepared this. It will hold your memory and seek out those with whom the memory resonates.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” June asked.

“Then we may have to face the fact that your mother no longer has any attachments. But I do not think that is the case.”

“Why?”

“Because such husks almost never leave Darktown.”

“Right.” June stared at the orb. There was an… absence to it, a blank slate waiting for a memory. Different from the way money worked, or other memories.

“How did you…”

“It will take you a few centuries to learn that art. Your part merely involves the memory you provide.”

“Right.” June closed her eyes. “What memory…”

“It must be strong, and one that both of you stood by.”

One that both of us stood by. It couldn’t be a casual memory, not one that had a thousand duplicates. And like Hank and Sally’s gifts, it’d have to be the one that she gave to the orb. I could lose it forever. Oh, she’d know what it was, but the memory itself would be a pale thing, forever leached of the resonance it once had.

June shivered. Now that she was about to do what Hank and Sally had done, it made their gifts to June all the more important.

Sixth grade. When I got the student of the year award. That’d been the day that Mom and Dad had both been happy. They’d both been…

Content.

June bit her lip. She didn’t want to give up the memory!

Give up the memory, or give up any hope of your mother finding herself…

She put her hand over the orb and remembered the assembly at school. The way Dad had the camcorder out, and was filming. He always said that cell phones just didn’t give you what you needed. Mom was next to him, in her favorite cream-colored dress. The teacher was by her. Ms. MacDonald. She’d liked Ms. MacDonald. June knew that the chubby, older woman would have been beside her kids, keeping them calm, no matter how terrified she was.

Now there was a pulling sensation. As the memory was… sucked into the orb. June was pushing it, but it was holding on to her. The memories, the emotions, not wanting to let go.

June whimpered. I don’t want to let you go! But she had to.

And then, with one last sharp, tearing sensation, the memory flew into the orb. June stared at the orb and then tried to remember. She… She could see it, dimly, a man standing holding a camera, her mother, but…

Nothing. No sense of pride or sorrow, just emptiness, an irritating absence that should never have been…

June closed her eyes and then started sobbing.

“It’s okay, June,” Hank said. “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” June wailed. “There should be something there!”

“This is why you must be cautious,” Teacher said, ignoring Sally’s glare. “But it was in a good cause. This memory is very powerful and has a great resonance. With you…and your mother.” He held out his hand, and June took the orb, still sniffling.

But she now felt a… tugging on it. A sense of loss, of need. An emptiness that, even if it didn’t know why, was reaching out for what was in the orb.

Part of that was June. But part of that…

“It’s Mom!” June said. “She’s not in Darktown. Let’s go!”

With that, she turned and ran from the little space, ignoring the people around her as she flew past the cathedral and went back to Time’s Square, the river and memory of Paris behind her. Then June pulled out her key and called her bike, even as Hank and Sally joined them.

“I shall ride with you, June,” Teacher said.

“Good!” June nodded. She buckled her helmet on, the old memories calming her down a little. “Let’s go!”

And with a roar of engines, the two bikes shot out into the square, some people jumping out of their way.

I’m going to find you, and this time, Mom, you’re going to listen!