The red moon was still high in the sky when small hands shook her awake. Construction clanked and groaned in the distance. Groggy, June managed a half-sit, hair mussed, eyes blurry. “Wha’ is it, gotta… pee or…?”

“They’re coming,” Sasha whispered.

A muffled crash pierced the night’s silence. June sat bolt upright, instantly awake. “They’re coming.”

She jumped to her feet. Arelia sat upright beside her, equally muddled. “What’s going on?”

“They’re coming!” June shouted.

Arelia jumped up, hooking her helmet as she went. “I’ll wake the others.” Her jets lit, and she vanished in a bright blur of neon lights.

“Wake up! They’re coming!” her voice boomed from above.

Like a kicked wasp’s nest, the scrapyard buzzed to life. People crawled out of every hole and hill and swarmed toward the streets. Cars roared. Weapons clattered.

“June!” Tooly shouted. She tossed a strange, flat shape at her.

June caught it, fingers tangling in the odd holes. After a moment, she recognized it: the tiny drone with the machine gun on it. Its rotors were once more whole, the balance righted.

“I wouldn’t fire the gun, but the drone should hold for now!”

June closed her eyes. When she opened them, the drone shook itself free of her hand and buzzed to the air. Storing it high above out of reach, she put its perspective in the back of her mind and instead reached out to that most familiar link.

High above her, red eyes burned in the night, brighter than the moon.

“It’s time,” June breathed. She reached out and stepped up as Nightmare scooped her up in the palm of her hand. The cockpit lit up, waiting for her.

She stared down the seat. Despite all their efforts, the seat was still misshapen. There was an edge missing on the left side of the seat. Dark violet-brown stained the upholstery there, so much that the fresh threads stood out, pale and bright. Her right leg ached. The harness felt cold, suddenly, icy against her thigh.

June forced a laugh and threw herself into the cockpit. Nightmare’s chest closed down on her. She plugged the mainline into the back of her skull and settled back, nocking the thick wire through the gap in the headrest. The seat swallowed her up. Straps wound around her, automatically locking her in place. There was a buzz. Interference burst across her vision. June melted into Nightmare.

Synchronization at 80% … 85% … 90%.

Video feeds flickered to life. She rolled her shoulders and clenched her hands. Her body was distant, too big, too strong, but with every moment, she felt herself fill the space. She became large. She was strong. She held her arms up in front of her, fists still clenched. One by one, she opened the fingers. “Five.” Another finger. “Four.” Another. “Three. Two.”

A voice crackled in her ear. “One, and roger, we’re ready to go. Fly high, soldier.”

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June smiled, momentarily breaking from Nightmare. A second later, she was back. She saluted Tooly, who snapped a salute back.

Slowly, June lifted her foot and took a step. Scrap crunched. People scurried out of her way, small as ants. Her body wobbled. She steadied herself, then took another. One more. Heavy. A thousand tons of steel.

She could move it. She was strong. Powerful enough to move this body. Powerful enough to move anything.

With every step, her body lightened. She climbed out of the scrap and onto the road. Asphalt crumbled under her weight.

Ahead, headlights glared up at her. Industrial grade, they burned bright and forced her video feed to flicker as it compensated, inching the brightness down. She raised a hand reflexively.

Bulldozers. Steamrollers. Backhoes. Construction equipment of every size and description lined up at the far end of the road, lights blazing into the Block. A massive demolition harness, six stories tall and easily taller than Nightmare, loomed over it all, a claw on one hand and a wrecking ball dangling from the other. The tiny camera mounted high on its broad shoulders burned at her, bright as the moon above.

Cars rolled up on Nightmare’s left and right. Neon lights glowed fiercely back at the bland white light. Engines growled like wild animals biting at bars. Raucous music blared from each car, clashing madly.

Naemi hung out of the sunroof of the largest, most ridiculous vehicle, whooping and hollering along with the rest of the punks. She shouted something through a megaphone, but June couldn’t make it out through the noise. Charl hunkered in the driver’s seat, knuckles white on the wheel.

Behind them, older, almost military vehicles joined the line. Then the scrappers and the few luckless streetpunks, carrying whatever weapons they could get their hands on.

Something flickered in June’s camera. A small form blurred and reappeared perched on her shoudler, dark hair fluttering smoothly in the wind. Sasha stared across the gap, then pointed. “Behind the vehicles are the tools. See? Those shadows there.”

June squinted. Her video adjusted, zooming, blocking out the lights. Dark forms became solid. Edges and sharp lines. Metal, reflecting artificial light.

Sasha continued, quietly. “Watch out. Some of them know how to hunt harness.”

June laughed. It rumbled out of Nightmare’s speakers, louder than she remembered. “It isn’t my first sortie. Don’t you worry about me.”

She lifted a hand to her shoulder. Reluctantly, Sasha climbed onto it, and she lowered him down.

Nightmare knelt and leveled blood-red eyes at him. She was so low that her jaw scraped the asphalt, hands splayed by her face. “I need you on the backlines. Keep those eyes open. You know best about the labs, so keep everyone informed. Use Arelia to spread the word, she can move faster than you.”

Sasha’s face wrinkled. Before he could protest, June stood up again, shuffling him back with a gesture. “Stay safe. Don’t let me worry.”

June drew Nightmare to her full height and cleared her throat. Her speakers boomed, much louder than before. She thrust her finger at the other side, and, as defiantly as she could, shouted, “You! Regis scum! Back off. You’ll never take this Block!”

To her surprise, a hologram lit up in response. Laredo Torre stared at her from across a desk, seated in comfort. “This land is mine. What I do with it is my business.”

“This land isn’t yours. It’s ours!” June snapped.

Laredo smiled. “You’re tenants, at best. And as of today, I have bought every lease in the Block. This land is mine. Please leave.”

“Never.”

Engines snarled. People shouted, angry.

Amused, Laredo half-turned to a small form. “I knew it was helpless.”

June stared. Sasha?

But it wasn’t. Both hands were skin-tone. His hair was shorter, his clothes clean, perfectly fitted.

Out of June’s sight, Sasha stiffened, eyes wide.

He turned back to the camera and straightened his tie. “Then, if that’s all you have to say…”

Arelia couldn’t hold on any longer. She flew into the sky, ahead of June, hand outstretched as though she could touch the hologram. “Father!”

In an instant, Laredo’s eyes turned cold.

“Father, please. Stop this. You don’t need to build the casino here, do you?”

Face blank, he reached out. For a moment, their hands seemed to meet.

The hologram vanished.

Arelia retracted her hand and brought it to her chest. It was only an illusion. A fleeting shadow. She couldn’t touch him. Not anymore.

Maybe I never could.