“What?”

I couldn’t have heard correctly. I must be misunderstanding.

“Deputy Dad is correct, citizen!” Beember said. “As part of my initial dataset, I received a randomized assortment of footage from the initial days of the previous Maffiyir. It has been difficult to get full value from the data, and certain things seem to be different this time around… but it does appear highly likely that sometime in the next few weeks, all humans will be transported to a standardized field filled with hazards and monsters. I expect that this will happen either eight or eleven days from now, given their trinary threat-introduction schedule.”

“Are you sure?”

“My certainty that it happened in the last contest does not meaningfully differ from 100% certainty. I cannot say if it will be the same for humanity.”

I stared at the stuffed dog, trying to find reasons to disbelieve what it was saying. I’d been thinking about Meghan and the kids a lot, trying to envision ways she could have succeeded at keeping them safe, and not once had I considered that she would try to have the kids fight and earn abilities.

Davi came over and grabbed my arm. “Vince, you need to sit down. You’re really white. Like, not white-person-white, printer-paper-white.”

I let her push me into a chair. Kenan’s father looked at me with sympathetic eyes. “Got people you’re worried about?”

“A wife. Three kids. I’ve been trying to get home. My little girl’s even smaller than your son.”

He winced. He opened his mouth, as if to offer words of comfort, but then closed it, looking away. What was there to say?

I kind of shut down for a while after that. Davi seemed worried by the news as well, and quizzed Beember intensively, ferreting out details that might give hints about what was ahead. I just listened, trying not to let my imagination run away with me, trying not to think about my kids facing all the hazards Beember described. The monsters I had fought seemed much bigger when I imagined them fighting my kids.

Kenan’s mom returned a short while later with six other adults. Kenan had his head poking through a hole in the center of a rug, which draped around him like a sandwich-board advertisement. I couldn’t see his arms, but I assumed they were folded up underneath and holding Captain Beember, who poked his head out the hole in the top alongside the small boy.

“Patrol formation! Arf!” the little dog barked.

We moved out, the other adults forming a square with Kenan in the middle. Davi and I took point, so I could point out the pavemimics. Kenan himself had an ability called Adhesive that I hadn’t seen before. It flung out a little globule that stuck to anything it touched. If he got it into a monster’s joint before it folded closed, the monster wouldn’t be able to open it. If he hit the bottom of a monster’s foot, they’d be stuck tight the moment they set that foot on the ground. It was excellent against pavemimics if we weren't surprised by them, tethering them to one spot so they were unable to chase.

Not quite realizing how it worked, I accidentally stepped on one of the globules when the monster disappeared, and lost my shoe on my next step. This gave Kenan a fit of giggles, but he was kind enough to release my shoe from the ground and hand it back to me.

“You’re lucky you weren’t here four days ago,” his father told me. “Until then, he could stick, but he couldn’t unstick. Took a lot of strength to pull anything free, and if it was your skin, well, you’d be asking favors from the healers.”

We made good time on the way back. The rams had reappeared while we were waiting, but every single one in Walsenburg city limits had been dispatched in short order by the organized defenders we’d met earlier. We didn’t even see any until we got outside of town. The other monsters were no problem either, even the new flyers, which this group was calling hellbats. Anything hostile was hit by six or seven abilities the moment they were seen. Some monsters died outright, and the remainder were hurting badly: easy to finish off.

It was a little surreal. The generosity of Walsenburg’s residents, Kenan and Captain Beember’s adorable antics… The whole crew surrounding Davi and I were in good spirits. The adults were sensitive enough to our situation that they were a little subdued, but Kenan was delighted to be out “doing hero stuff!” and his delight spread through the crowd.

I wasn’t immune to the positive attitude but my worry for Twinkles and my family - they’d have to fight monsters?! - made the happiness sour, like orange juice on freshly-brushed teeth.

Bolero waved as we approached Frank. “More hitchhikers? I hope they know we can’t leave until Twinkles is back.”

“No,” I said. “They want to see Davi’s notes, and they have information for us… but not about Twinkles. It doesn’t seem like anyone from Walsenburg went to the challenge.”

“How do you know that? What kind of information do they have, then?” Avalanche asked.

Everyone was astonished by Captain Beember, and sobered by the news he had to share. I could tell by Kurt’s wild-eyed expression that he shared my panic, and, for a minute, I was worried that John was having a heart attack.

“My wife won’t be fighting monsters. She… she’ll…” He trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“We need to get home,” Kurt said. “I’m sorry to be the one to say this but… Twinkles probably isn’t coming back.”

“You don’t know that!” Bolero was usually the calmest of the TAF crew, but he sounded almost desperate.

Kurtis looked away, blinking back tears. “I don’t. I don’t know for sure. I would stay and wait with you, but… my family. They’re in danger.”

“We can’t abandon him,” Bolero said. “You’ve got to understand that!”

I closed my eyes. When I spoke, my voice was quiet. “How long do you want to wait?”

Bolero looked at me, then at JoeyT. Zephyr reached out to grab Avalanche’s hand. They all looked angry. Lost.

And young.

Legally, they might be adults, but they were closer to little Kenan’s age than mine.

“We can’t abandon him,” Bolero said. His voice was softer this time, but he seemed no less determined. He looked to his friends, and I saw each nod.

They wouldn’t be leaving.

“‘The greatest cost is paid by the families of those missing in action.’”

“What?” Bolero asked.

Everyone was staring at me. I hadn’t meant to speak aloud. “It’s something I read on a plaque at the Air Armaments Museum when I was traveling for business. They had a section on the Vietnam War and prisoners of war, and soldiers missing in action that was… really powerful. It talked about how, if someone dies, their loved ones move on. They have to. But if you don’t know… if you can’t be sure…”

Bolero looked miserable. Zephyr was staring at her feet. Avalanche looked ready to fight. JoeyT’s expression was the hardest for me to parse: his mouth pressed in a thin line, eyes wide.

I was upsetting them.

I didn’t want to do that.

“If we can’t be sure, then what?” Avalanche asked.

I cleared my throat, looking away. “There was one line I remember word-for-word: ‘Is there a limit to the time one waits? A limit to love? To hope?’”

“Of course not!” Avalanche growled.

“Of course not,” I agreed. I took a deep breath, and forced myself to meet her eyes. Shit. She was college-age, barely out of high school, not so many years older than my son Micah. My voice wavered as I kept speaking. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait with you.”

There was quiet for a moment, then Avalanche made an inarticulate noise of distress before stalking off toward Frank’s cab. She paused for a moment to glare at me as she stood on the truck’s running board, and I braced myself for whatever she was going to say… but she continued inside, slamming the cab door behind herself.

“I should check on her,” Zephyr mumbled. I could see water glistening in the crevices between her scales, her altered skin disrupting the path of her tears.

She was hardly alone. Aside from the Walsenburg residents, who were standing awkwardly a few feet away, giving us space, the only dry eyes were JoeyT’s. His lack of tears didn’t denote a lack of emotion; his jaw was so tightly clenched that it trembled slightly.

JoeyT watched Zephyr follow her partner and then took a deep breath. “I… understand. You’ll leave us our share of the supplies? It seems like the nearby town is pretty nice.” He tried to smile at the group of Walsenburg residents, but I'd rarely seen such a sorry effort.

“We’ll leave you everything we can,” I said. “I’ve got a couple wall patterns, and I think Davi has a door. We’ll make you guys a shelter and give you the room cooler and a light source and tons of supplies. Wait - that Shop pattern I got. I should buy it before we leave. Maybe it’ll have something that will help you.”

“Don’t be dumb,” said JoeyT gruffly. “I have a pattern too. You keep yours, if I’m staying.”

The stocky boy turned to face the edge of the road. A square of dirt vanished, then was slowly filled in by a bizarre-looking building with a Japanese roof and ornate doors. A thin spire, nearly as tall as the Points Siphons but glowing a soft red, provided a beacon announcing the Shop’s presence.

The adults from Walsenburg had picked up on our group’s tension and worry, but it had gone right over Kenan’s head.

“That’s amazing!” the five-year-old shouted, and raced toward the building.

“Kenan! Wait!” his frustrated father called. The Walsenburg residents and our group surged forward as Kenan yanked the doors open with strength out-of-character for a boy his size.

“It’s like a spaceship in here!” Kenan yelled. “I’m gonna fly it!”

The inside of the building was covered in smooth white tiles, the only ornamentation two small plinths that rose from the floor to either side of the door. Kenan placed his hands on one and the wall in front of it lit up, a massive computer screen.

“Warp speed!” Kenan said.

The building did not warp. Instead, the screen in front of him populated with a short list.

Basic Shop

Options:

Display available purchases

Input blueprint

Display requests

“Kenan,” said Captain Beember. “Please say ‘Display available purchases.’”

Kenan, nonplussed, did as he’d been asked. The boy then sighed gustily. “Oh great. More words.”

The boy was startled when the other Walsenburg adults erupted in cheers and prayers of thanks.

“Oh, thank heavens.”

“I didn’t know how we were going to make it through winter.”

“The Lord is good, that’s for certain.”

Illegible to the young boy, the screen had populated with a list of possible purchases:

Claim land (cost variable)

500 kCal ration - optimized for consumption by humans (1* Money)

1 gallon pure H₂O (1* Money)

My group’s reaction was more subdued. JoeyT nodded at me. “Well, there you go. We’ll be alright. You guys can move on without worrying about us. Get back to your kids.”

“I’d like to have a service for Twinkles, before we go,” John said.

“What kind of service?” JoeyT asked. His voice was brittle.

“Well, you know, a memorial, a-”

JoeyT’s carefully maintained facade dissolved as he practically shouted at John. “He doesn’t need a memorial, because he’s not dead.”

John dropped his eyes. “Of course.”