I stood in the middle of Times Square, my squad at my back. Barricades had blocked off most of the entrances to the square, leaving only 7th Avenue heading north open. Right now, it was clear, but I could hear the moaning and shuffling as the zombies who had taken over New York made their way toward us.

"Everyone ready?" I asked my team. "Remember, their bites will inflict a nasty debuff. Get Sage to clean it off right away. If you lose all your HP, you'll respawn, but the patients won't."

The dozen men and women at my back nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, our support team — Sage, Eleonora, Jacqueline, and Thomas — were preparing for the arrival of our patients.

A timer flashed up. Five, four, three, two, one. Then, a flash of brilliant white light.

I glanced behind me. The square was now filled with dozens upon dozens of hospital beds. Everything from high-tech, state-of-the-art designs like I would expect to see in the most expensive hospitals back home, to little more than pallets. They were all filled with gaunt, emaciated, deathly ill patients. Most had their eyes closed. Some looked dead, though I could see their health bars and knew that they weren't. They all had nasty status debuffs on them. A couple started ticking immediately. Sage hit them with Raise Your Spirits and cleansed some of the immediate debuffs, but it didn't raise their HP, nor would it until we got them the cure.

I turned back to face the street, and now I could see the horde of zombies shuffling toward us. There had to be at least a thousand of them, pressed shoulder to shoulder, moaning. They had ragged clothes falling off of their bodies and represented a pretty good cross-section of New York, only now dirty and less socially aware than usual.

"Set up lines of fire," I instructed.

Our newest recruits were from the U.S. Marine Corps, a volunteer squad of privates and one lieutenant who I had had the privilege of inducting into the reality engine just last week. Two of them had the "Rifleman" class, while the other three had slightly more interesting but still combat-themed classes. They unslung their weapons, mostly M4s, though one of the privates had a sawed-off shotgun.

To my left were my ringers. Myself, Firefighter Will, his girlfriend, the Non-Ironic Beat Poet Hester, and Lara the Soccer Mom. With them backing us up, I had confidence in our ability to take out this horde of zombies. The only catch was making sure none of them broke through our lines and got to our patients.

"Hold your fire," I told my men as the zombies edged closer. "Hold... now!"

Guns opened up. I Quick Drew my own pistol and headshot the nearest zombie. My fire team raked them with bullets.

"I'm out!" Private Gonzalez shouted. "I gotta reload!"

"Use your ability!" I snapped.

I had carefully selected these men, choosing a group whose combat classes were relatively uncomplicated but also straight-up useful. I knew for a fact that they all had the ability to reload their weapons instantly. He just wasn’t used to his yet.

As the zombies fell, bright, shining images of coins appeared over their corpses, spinning. We had the loot options set so that we could collect them as they came. Now Jacqueline, from our support team, sprang forward. She had a class called [Grease Monkey] and the relevant skill was "Too Slippery to Hold." I could see the shimmering outline around her body as the skill activated. Nothing would be able to touch her as long as it was active, though she wouldn't be able to do any damage. She could, however, loot.

She sprang forward, ignoring our gunfire and the hordes of zombies, and ran through the piles of gore to retrieve the first dozen soul coins. She sprinted back to our lines and began handing soul coins out to the patients.

Meanwhile, some of the zombies had made it past the first rank of bodies and were lurching for us. They had no sense of self-preservation, charging straight into our guns. We fired again and again, but there were so many of them. Some of them made it through without being hit. One grabbed at Private Ronson.

"Ah!" he shouted. "It bit me!"

Next to him, Gonzalez blew its head off. Sage sprang forward. She cast Raise Your Spirits on Ronson, and the Infected debuff disappeared. A minute later, he was ticking back up to full health.

"Focus!" I shouted. "Mow 'em down. Don't let them pass our lines, no matter what happens."

I took another careful shot, this time with a grease grenade round, targeting a zombie near the back of the pack. It struck the zombie and exploded, showering the nearest couple of dozen with gasoline and sticky tar. I followed up with a flare shot right into their midst. The zombies lit up like torches, the fire consuming their rotten flesh and turning the undead into really dead.

Jacqueline raced forward again and collected more soul coins from the front rows. We were making great progress on the zombies. I wanted to give our new fire team a chance to get used to combat, but we were shooting ducks in a barrel. They weren't going to learn anything from this.

I sighed and turned to my experts. "Hester? Will? Let's finish this."

Hester nodded. Stepping forward, she thrust out her hands and cast "Despondency of the Mute" on the zombies. The debuff settled over them. It held them in place and dealt increasingly large quantities of damage. It could be dispelled by simply shouting aloud, but since zombies can't shout, it worked effectively.

Then Will pulled out his flamethrower, a recent upgrade to his Fireman class. His fire-based damage had a nice 3x multiplier on it. As he sent a gout of flame 20 yards in front of him and played it back and forth against the zombies, a pillar of smoke rose up through the canyons of New York City toward the sky above.

I used my targeting ability to confirm that there were no more enemies left. Satisfied, I turned to the team. "Good job. Let's get the rest of these new arrivals up and moving.”

I stepped forward and grabbed a handful of soul coins, then moved to the nearest hospital bed. On it lay an emaciated person in a hospital gown. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. They had no hair. Their skin was probably a darker shade of brown than my own, but from the pallor of sickness, it was hard to say. Their eyes were closed. I bent and sent a soul coin directly on their forehead, then stepped back.

The patient's body shimmered. A light consumed it, growing so bright, I had to blink. Then there was a woman staring up at me. She looked about 35. She had close-cropped, tight curls on her head and a healthy mahogany sheen to her skin. Her dark eyes blinked up at me. She sat up, holding her hands up and looking at them.

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"Where am I?" She looked around, and her brow creased. "New York, but I thought I was in the Mayo Clinic. What just happened? Where’s my grandson?”

I patted her on the shoulder. "Just hang tight, ma'am. We'll be doing a quick briefing for everyone, but I've got others to see to first."

Her eyes narrowed as she took in my drover's coat and hat. "You're not an orderly."

“No ma’am, but I am here to help. Be right back.”

In minutes, we had distributed soul coins to all of the patients. Some of the first to have been treated were getting to their feet and moving around, clearly marveling at their new life. A man approached me. He showed the signs of having been rejuvenated. His hospital gown was now much too tight, and his eyes were much older. My grandpa had the same sort of look. He had close-cropped red hair. The man stuck out a hand.

“The name’s Bob. I know who you are. You're Captain Williams. So my wife got me into the pilot program."

I shook his hand and nodded. "Yes, you are now part of the first batch of terminally ill people we've brought up here to the reality engine.”

“So what happens now?" He looked around. "You're gonna put us on a flight back home? Can't wait to show my wife." He held up his hands in front of him and flexed. "Of course, she's 76 and may not appreciate having a husband back in his prime." He looked suddenly pensive, as though some realizations were hitting him.

“Just hang on a couple minutes.” I held up my hand and shouted for attention. "All right, everyone. In just a minute, there'll be a door appearing. We're gonna go through the door, then I'm gonna have a quick introduction and hand you off to some helpers for the next step. I know you've all got lots of questions, and I will answer them. But let's go somewhere a little more comfortable, shall we?" I gestured around at the ruins of Times Square.

A couple of the patients wandered over close to where we had made our stand. They looked over the piles of gore and broken body parts. One man dropped to his knees, vomiting. I blinked and remembered that for these folks, everything felt entirely real. I'd gotten desensitized in the last two years. The smell of blood and decay barely bothered me. I knew it wasn't real, at least not in the ways that mattered.

An elevator erupted from the ground beneath our feet, scattering bits of pavement as it pushed its way up. Our new friends shouted and swore. "Sorry, that's our ride," I yelled. “Sometimes things get a little showy here. If you'll step inside, we'll be getting along."

The door opened, showing an elevator. I urged the nearest couple of patients inside. Looking at me suspiciously, they entered. "All the way to the back," I said cheerfully.

Lara slipped in after them, murmuring pleasantries to a nervous-looking woman. Seeing her go in seemed to relax a few of the others, and they followed. I kept urging people in. The elevator didn't look more than the usual size, but after the first twenty patients entered and there was still room, I noticed a few surprised looks between those waiting to get on.

"Don't worry," I said cheerfully. "It's bigger than it looks."

We all climbed in, me last of all. As the doors slid shut behind me, I jabbed the B button and the elevator sank down into the earth.

The doors opened, and we stepped off into a well-appointed lounge. Little metal tables like you'd see in a cafe with two chairs at each of them dotted the bright white and yellow-tiled floor. Jazz music played overhead. It smelled faintly of cleaning product and coffee.

I urged everyone off the elevator. My team guided them into chairs. I turned to the fire team. "Good job today. I'll be there for your debriefing in an hour. You've got time to clean up and grab a drink before I get there." They nodded and stepped back into the elevator.

My support team ranged out around the edges of the room. Some of them had roles to play here. Others, like Hester, were, I think, just curious.

I made my way toward the front of the room where there was a microphone and a set of chairs facing the rest of the lounge. I turned to face the audience. They were still all in their hospital gowns.

I cleared my throat. "Kronos, can we get something a little more appropriate here?"

An instant later, half of the room screamed. Some of them got to their feet. The hospital gowns were gone, replaced by jeans, slacks, t-shirts, and in a few cases, long ankle-length robes. It looked to me like Kronos had done enough background research to figure out at least what sort of thing each of these people would be most comfortable wearing.

"Sorry about that," I said, holding up my hands. I looked over to Sage, who nodded. She was helping me make a list of everything we were doing wrong here. Next time through, I'd ask Kronos to change the outfits while the people were being bonded to the reality engine. If Kronos could remove tumors and regrow muscle, he'd be able to swap out bathrobes for jeans at the same time, no problem.

"Sorry about that," I said. Everybody took their seats slowly. "My name's Williams. Captain Shad Williams, U.S. Army, serving on detached duty at the Sol System Reality Engine out in the orbit of Ganymede. All of you heard of the reality engine?"

I got a bunch of nods around the room. From what I'd heard, Earth had gotten enough information from the aliens to have some idea of what was going on. Our big visit back home a couple of months ago had helped fill in most of the other details.

A few were shaking their heads, either because they were the kind of people who didn't pay attention to the news or maybe their illnesses had been going on for a little too long.

"Well, for those of you who don't know, basic synopsis is, a couple million years ago, a bunch of aliens built giant planet-sized machines capable of interfacing with our minds and also creating matter out of component atoms. Those aliens promptly went extinct. Millions of years later, more aliens learned star flight, found the engines, figured out how to turn them back on, and realized they were the secret to controlling the galaxy. Since then, any time a new reality engine is located, the various galactic factions fight an incredibly civilized little war over it. They take great steps to minimize deaths, at least among themselves, by recruiting 10 million or so of the local inhabitants to help them enslave the engine. About two years ago now, it was our turn. Me, my sister, the other people you see in the room here," I gestured around, "my granddad, we were plucked from our homes and brought here. I think most of you remember the abduction."

That got nods all around. Ten million people can't all vanish at the same instant without it being notable.

"Anyway, the aliens picked the wrong system. My friends and I were able to throw a monkey wrench into the deal, and we managed to make friends with the intelligence at the center of this particular reality engine. We kicked some alien butt and made them come to the bargaining table.”

One of the recently healed humans shouted, “Hell yeah! Go Earth!” A lot of the others laughed. I cracked a grin and nodded in agreement before going on.

“Now the aliens are looking for our help with other engines. They're looking to sign up us humans as contractors. Some of you might very well take them up on it. I just urge you to avail yourself of the free legal aid that we've got at your disposal before you sign anything. Trust me, these aliens are sneaky bastards and would like nothing more than to put you down for a hundred-year indentured servitude contract."

"Anyway, the reason you all are here is because the reality engine is able to cure things that are incurable according to Earth medicine. All of you were hours or days from dying when your loved ones signed you up for this program. Now, whatever was wrong with you is gone. Your life expectancy is probably close to 200 years old. We're not 100% sure yet. But there's a catch."

I paused, as the room fell deathly quiet. “The reality engine remade your bodies and in doing so made you dependent on its systems. You're going to be stuck living here or at another reality engine for the rest of your life barring a quick visit home now and then with the help of some very expensive technology.

That got an outburst around the room. "You can't just kidnap us!" "I appreciate the help, but I want to go home." "There's got to be another way."

I held up my hand. "Trust me. Felt the same way when I found out. I'm sorry we couldn't ask permission directly, but you were all pretty far gone. We didn't really have time to wait around. Now I'm going to turn things over to some of our experts."

I gestured and four more people appeared, all part of one of the welcoming committees that Juana and Colonel Ames had been setting up in the last couple of weeks. I introduced each member of the committee to the room full of patients, then tipped my hat to the room.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to work. Good luck. Oh — one more thing. I know you've all probably left people back at home. Believe me, we're sympathetic. We're working on plans to get loved ones and close relatives up here too, if they're willing to emigrate. The details are going to take a little bit of time to work out. Anyway, I'm really glad that you're all here, because it means you all get a second chance. What you do with it, that's up to you."