Prague, Czech Republic.

The directions Misha had given Reeve were more vague than the directions Noah had given them to train in finding Sanctuaries on their own. Significantly more vague. After sleepless hours of simulated rest in a ratty hostel, they’d taken a bus to Regensburg, a small city Misha had suggested. It sat on the Danube and was surrounded by a patchwork quilt of farms. There, they’d wandered in an increasingly hopeless search for the Sanctuary.

Reeve used his telepathy on the second night. He did it at first without saying anything, just listening and taking in the sounds of the city with a very passive mind. It wasn’t helpful. He hadn’t really expected it to be, but he’d hoped. Afterward, he’d asked the others if he could do a scan to comb the city for the Church. Exhausted and cold, they’d agreed.

He’d still found nothing. The Sanctuary was likely empty, which was sort of ideal, but it also meant they couldn’t find it. They moved on to Prague, where a scan of the city had hit immediately on one mind who lived in dim red lights and was out on a patrol. Reeve was keeping his scans very light, and because of that, their information was vague, too. He didn’t dare bring more attention to himself by digging deeper and so could only follow the fuzzy cluster of Church thoughts. This is what led them to the front of a bar in the center of Prague.

“There?” Gareth asked, nodding.

Reeve dropped his heavy pack and leaned against the cold brick wall of a closed bank building south of the bar. Prague was beautiful. He wasn’t too tired yet to admit it. It was bright with burnt orange roofs and blue-grey cobblestone streets. And it was clean, which was, it turned out, more of a problem than he expected. When you wandered around the seedy outskirts of cities in long coats and bulky packs, people didn’t tend to bother you. They either kept their heads down or knew these were people best left alone. In Prague, they hadn’t yet found a bad section of the city and they were getting stares. Stowing their coats in their bags helped, and a small nudge from Reeve was enough to convince the local authorities curious of the shape of their bags to move on and forget them.

“So how do we do this?” Alyosha asked.

Reeve shrugged. “Go in, get a drink, split up, and look around. Look for tattoos.”

“Can’t you pinpoint him once you’re in there?”

“Too many people if I keep my telepathy low profile. I won’t be able to untangle it.”

“Fine, let’s go,” Gareth sighed.

It was crowded, but not so much that you couldn’t move around, and the music wasn’t as loud as he’d expected, which was a welcome surprise. Reeve hung back while Alyosha and Gareth waded through the crowd to the maze of small, round tables toward the back.

Reeve sat down at the bar and waited for the bartender to get to him. The bar was tall and made of worn, honeyed wood. It was something he’d have really loved to look at on another day. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone watching him and concentrated on keeping his pulse down. The man stood, wavered on his feet, and walked at a slight tilt toward him, sitting clumsily a couple stools down from him and fiddling with a beer bottle. He was young, slightly younger than Reeve, with shaggy blonde hair and a thin, plaid scarf around his neck. As far as Reeve could tell without using telepathy, best case scenario, he was about to get hit on in a language he didn’t speak, which ranked lower on his list of things he’d like to do right now than getting into a bar fight.

The bartender got to him and, thankfully, switched to rough English at Reeve’s expression. He ordered a soda water with lime, something he could pass off as alcohol. He had gone too much without sleep to even attempt a weak drink.

“American?” The voice beside him was loud, with scarcely contained joy. He turned to see the man busily shifting over the last two seats to sit beside Reeve, a grin split ear to ear.

“Yeah,” Reeve answered, turning, unable to repress a small chuckle.

He struggled into the seat next to Reeve with a wild sway, but caught himself by grabbing hold of Reeve’s shoulder and gripping it tighter than he probably needed to.

“Oh, thank God.” He settled into the seat and rested his forehead on his arms against the bar. “It’s good to hear a familiar voice.”

“Been here a while?”

The man nodded, talking a little too fast to avoid slurring. “I work IT for a security firm. The money’s good, but I miss the States.”

Reeve took his drink from the bartender and glanced around him.

“Thomas Andrews,” the man next to him said brightly, extending a hand.

He shook it. “Reeve.”

Thomas nudged Reeve’s bag on the floor with his toe. “Backpacking?”

“Yeah.” Reeve felt his whole body tense before he could stop it. “My first time in Eastern Europe,” he said with his best I-hate-small-talk-go-away smile.

There was a loud, sharp crack from the back of the room and Reeve was upright like a shot, craning for a better view. Before he could even think about whether or not it was a good idea, he’d sent a panicked probing thought to Gareth.

It’s okay, he got back from Gareth, someone dropped a pool cue.

Reeve let out a breath. It wasn’t until he looked down at his new friend that he realized he had automatically brought his right hand up by his belt where he normally kept his pistol. Reeve dropped his hand as casually as possible and sat down. He needed sleep. This was completely unacceptable. Thomas was watching him silently. His eyes had lost their lidded, drunken look.

Reeve stared straight ahead at the colorful line of liquor bottles and went to sip his water, but the ice in his glass shivered with his shaking, so he set it down with a thud. “I need a nap,” he said weakly in explanation.

“Well, it’s almost ten at night—kind of an odd time for a cat nap.”

Reeve didn’t respond, concentrating on taking a drink with a more steady hand.

Thomas put an elbow up on the bar and slid down closer to Reeve. He half expected the move to send the man tumbling off the stool, but he kept his balance.

“You seem like you’re shit outta luck.”

“Yeah,” Reeve agreed with a humorless laugh.

“Are you?”

Reeve turned to look at him, brows lowered. “Excuse me?”

“You know, shit outta luck. S—O—L.”

Reeve focused on the cold sensation the air created against his tongue when he inhaled, letting it remind him not to hyperventilate. His mind churned through facts. Thomas was aware of the Corp and had either felt his telepathy or was inferring from his jumpy response. But he hadn’t even flinched at the pop of the pool cue, which any agent would have done. Unless he’d orchestrated it as a test. No, that was getting too far in the weeds. Reeve just had to hope.

Turning to face the bar again, tensing his muscles to react, he answered, “I’m not drunk enough yet to talk about my ex’s.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Thomas smile. Reeve took another drink. “Are you religious?”

Thomas turned to face the bar, mirroring him. “Very,” he said, his voice solemn. He tugged his scarf down to show a tattoo on the side of his neck—a white dove among flames, a symbol for the Holy Spirit. It wasn’t the tattoo that made Reeve’s whole body partially collapse in relief, it was what the tattoo was ostensibly covering up: a pair of pale, crescent-shaped bite scars.

Reeve rubbed at his face before unzipping his jacket and lifting up the sleeve of his tee-shirt where it covered his Church tattoo.

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “You know, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m new.”

“What do you need, brother?” He lifted his sleeve to flash the equilateral cross on his wrist. It was different from Misha’s. The cross's arms were flared, wider at the ends than in the center.

“Sleep,” Reeve answered honestly. “And Sanctuary.”

Thomas nodded. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve got two others with me.”

“So call them.” He threw some money on the bar in front of him and motioned to the bartender that he was paying for Reeve’s as well.

Reeve sent a thought to Gareth. “You don’t seem nearly as drunk now as you did five minutes ago.”

“I was never drunk; I was bait.”

“What?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“That’s why I approached you. You were alone, pale, kind of sick-looking, and had that blank-faced emotionless thing they do when they aren’t mimicking human expression. I’m sorry, man, but you look dead. So I grabbed your arm to see if you felt human or not.”

“Oh my god.”

“Nothing personal.” Thomas zipped up his hoodie. “Your monk should have given you a list of locations to get you started.”

“He did,” Reeve groaned, “but it’s like a ten block radius to find a damn twig or something.” He could see Gareth and Alyosha pushing through the crowd.

“Ah. Who was it?”

“His name’s Misha.”

“Oh, that fuckin’ guy. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Reeve let Gareth and Alyosha go past him and followed them out of the bar before turning to them. “This is Thomas. He’s going to take us to the Sanctuary.”

Thomas put out a hand, but Gareth just shifted his weight. “Can we do all this inside?” Reeve winced internally. It’s like Gareth was an expert at losing the good will of strangers. But Thomas shook it off, nodded and set off walking. They followed, packs heavy. The straps felt like they were cutting into his skin, wearing deeper into the grooves on his shoulders.

They walked for close to an hour before they got to the Sanctuary. Reeve still had no idea how he was supposed to have found it. He made a note to ask Thomas to show him later. After he’d slept.

---

Sol LAHQ. Pluto Department.

Darwin was struggling to get a song out of his head when he walked into one of Pluto’s Psychotherapy offices. These suites were a nice, but jealousy-inducing reprieve from his basement room every now and then. The soft hush of white noise pervaded the space, and there were tall potted plants with broad leaves in the corners. Unlike the other hallways, it was carpeted and the chairs were soft, with tall rounded backs.

The waiting room was empty except for one man sitting in a chair in the center of a row set along one wall. Out of the corner of Darwin’s eye, he saw that the man was bent over, learning his forearms on his knees. Politely, he didn’t look further and headed straight for the reception desk.

“Is Danny with a patient?” Darwin asked, leaning down.

“Uhh, yeah,” she answered, running one finger down today’s date in the schedule book. “Need something?” Her eyes cycled through four or five inhumanly bright colors while Darwin watched. He tried to remember what her knack was and couldn’t.

“Can you just make sure he gets this and have him call me?” Darwin folded the print outs and held them out.

“Sure,” she smiled thinly, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

Darwin cocked his head. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“He won’t leave,” the receptionist whispered and nodded behind Darwin. “He doesn’t have an appointment.”

Darwin craned to look at the man, then winced as he realized it probably looked about as subtle as turning and pointing, but the man in the chair was staring straight down at the carpet, not seeing him.

“And he’s Neptune,” she continued in a hushed tone, “so they need clearance for treatment, and he doesn’t have it.”

The Neptune agent had overgrown, dark hair, and a good week’s worth of facial hair. Darwin turned his head back around, remembering himself. “I think I know him,” he said. His face was thinner, but still recognizable as the Neptune agent who had covered his tracks in the parking lot when he accidentally showed his ears to a taxi driver. “Thanks for getting that to Danny.”

“No problem.”

Darwin walked over to the man in the chair and stood in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, his tongue getting tangled up as he fought not to stutter. “Are you okay?” he asked, trying to keep his voice gentle and quiet. The man looked up. He had dark circles under his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks were deep. It immediately seemed like a ridiculous question to ask.

He nodded anyway. “Sorry,” he said huskily, “I’ll go.” He used one arm to heft himself up out of the chair and wavered.

Eyes wide, Darwin grabbed at him. “Whoa!”

“Sorry,” he repeated, putting one hand to the side of his head.

“Do you want us to call you doctor?”

The man laughed and rubbed at his glassy eyes. “No, I’m not sick, just dizzy.”

“Have you eaten today?” Darwin asked before thinking.

“I thought...I don’t think so.”

“Okay, I’m going to make sure you get home okay and get some food. Is that alright?” He nodded and turned to go. Darwin looked back at the receptionist, who mouthed a “thank you” to him, and Darwin felt a pang of guilt but wasn’t sure why.

They walked down the hall and Darwin watched him out of the corner of his eye, worried the agent would stumble, but he seemed steady enough now. He felt a cold knot in his stomach, thinking that he had intruded on a Neptune agent who wasn’t looking for his company. A Neptune agent. He needed to explain or he’d sweat his way through his shirt and have to go back to his quarters to get a fresh one.

“I don’t know if you remember me,” Darwin started, “but you helped me out of a situation a while back.”

“Yeah, I remember your ears,” he said with a small laugh. When he smiled, his face creased easily, but fell slack again quickly, as if it pained him. Darwin couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t have clearance for treatment—the depression was glaring. The kind of thing he’d be coordinating with Pluto about if one of his students looked that way. He hit the elevator button to the floor that led to the living quarters skywalk.

“You really don’t have to walk me home. I’m alright now.”

Darwin shrugged. Looking at the man’s Neptune card key hanging off his belt made him a little antsy about insisting anything to him. The lines of the Neptune symbol seemed crisp and hyperreal. He got into the elevator with him. “It gives me an excuse to stretch my legs.”

“I’m Jake.”

“Darwin.” He shifted his feet, ready to shake his hand if Jake moved to offer it, but he didn’t. Darwin tapped his foot, swallowing and feeling hot in the tight space. His ear itched and he resisted scratching it. He twitched it once, twice, then over and over until he couldn’t help it anymore and he raked at his hair, ruffling it, then smoothing.

“Listen, I work with that office a lot,” Darwin babbled, trying to get it all out fast before he let his better judgment take over, “and if you want, I can help you get the right paperwork…”

Jake looked at him, his eyebrows drawing together. Darwin swallowed.

“Rules are rules,” Jake shrugged. His voice reached for a light pitch but his sloped posture and pained expression couldn’t carry it off.

Darwin nodded. A chill starting in his toes ran up his spine at a Neptune agent using the word “rules.” He understood that these agents had sensitive information and all, but he’d never heard of someone actually being denied treatment. It gave him a sinking feeling that was, more and more, becoming a frequent occurrence. When he looked up, Jake was watching him, something like pity in his eyes.

Darwin’s cell phone rang. He jumped, feeling as though every bone in his body had vibrated with the tone. He saw Jake take a step back, bobbing his head at him to take it. At least that’s what Darwin thought it meant, but he was struggling with finding the bones in his fingers to grasp the phone in his pocket and pull it out. Beth, one of his supervisors in Terre, flashed on his screen and he took it, giving Jake a grimace.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Darwin. Do you have time to conference with a teacher about one of his students? It’s your free block right? He’d like to meet in your office if that works for you.” Her casual voice felt out of place.

“Uh,” Darwin began, his jaw hanging open as he drew the syllable out, looking back at Jake, who was smiling. The elevator bobbed to a stop and Darwin’s eyes bounced back and forth as the doors slowly opened.

Jake put up one hand to keep Darwin from walking off the elevator. His fingers were steady. Steadier than Darwin’s at the moment. “I’m fine,” he said firmly, but couldn’t withhold a small chuckle at the end. “Thanks for the company.”

Darwin nodded slowly. Beth’s voice was calling his name in his ear. Jake leaned over and pressed the elevator button for the ground floor and then the door close button. “Thanks,” he said again and stepped off the elevator just as the doors started to close again.

“Of course,” Darwin called.

The voice on the other end of his phone resounded loudly, “Darwin?”

“Sorry!” he said, feeling jumpy. “You caught me at a weird time! Sure I can meet with them. I’m heading to my office right now.”

He blinked at the control panel. He hadn’t told Jake what floor he was headed to or even what department he worked for. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. Telepaths.

He’d have to be more careful about what he thought about. He counted his breathing, reaching for the song that had been impossible to shake earlier, but couldn't remember how it began.

---

Sanctuary. Prague, Czech Republic.

Reeve woke, shifting in the tangled sheets, and drew his leg back into the small circle of warmth where he’d been laying. He hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to sharing a bed. The sharp pang of not knowing where Alex was made him feel colder. He saw Alex in his mind again, the last time they’d been alone together. The back of his head, his shoulders hunched and tense, his mind a kicked hornets’ nest, defensive and sharp. Not touching him had felt like the kindest choice he’d had in that moment. Reeve was tired of feeling like an idiot every minute of his days.

He could hear voices in the other room. Reeve sat up and rubbed at his closed eyes until he saw bursts of orange spatter across the darkness. He blinked hard, shook his head, and headed out.

Thomas, Gareth, and Shvedov were in the small sitting area, chatting. Reeve was relieved to see that Gareth was finally acting like an even partially decent guest. He didn’t have the energy to devote to making sure their host wasn’t annoyed enough to tip someone off.

“Feeling better?” Thomas asked, as Reeve walked in. He had a pair of jeans on his lap and was busy sewing on a patch.

“A little.”

“We didn’t want to wake you,” Alyosha said, his tone of voice a little too gentle for Reeve’s liking, but he nodded him a thank you.

“I’ve already told them that I don’t know anything about this Network, sorry.”

“S’okay. Right now, we just need to lay low. Entropy troubles. Hate to bring that to your door.”

Thomas shrugged. “Happy for the company. Never had much contact with Entropy. Sol either, really.”

“Sorry to break your winning streak.”

“I thought you weren’t Sol anymore.”

Reeve dropped his head, letting it hang for a second. “Yeah, I’m not. It’s still... Nothing makes sense right now.” He rummaged through his coat pockets where he’d dropped it and took a caffeine pill. He had grown seriously tired of European coffee.

“I could definitely use the help with the hunt. Not easy with just one, and you’re the first to come through in over a month.”

“You’ve been here that long?” Gareth asked, eyebrows raised.

Reeve cocked his head, “You don’t really work IT, do you?”

Thomas laughed. “No, it’s just an ideal cover. No one wants to know about your IT job and if they do, just say it’s for a securities firm and you’ve signed a non-disclosure. Bam, conversation ended.”

“Smart.” Reeve stretched and gave the room a glance around. “Hey, if I give you cash, can you run out and buy us food? I want to do a sweep to see if we’re still being followed.”

“Sure,” Thomas said.

“I’ll come with you,” Gareth offered. “I need the air.”

After they’d left, Reeve leaned back on the couch with his eyes closed as he began his light, careful combing of the city.

“He seems nice.” Alyosha’s voice had shifted in the room, now sitting across from Reeve in an armchair.

Reeve hummed in response.

A moment of silence passed before Shvedov commented, “We forgot to ask him about his knack, or gift, or whatever.”

“He creates pockets of extra-dimensional space.” Reeve could hear the curtness in his own voice and swallowed. “I checked him out.”

“Ah,” Alyosha responded with a falsely casual tone.

Reeve sighed. He turned his head to one side without opening his eyes. “I’m actually trying to concentrate here,” he said a little shortly.

Alyosha was quiet for not even half a minute before his voice broke in again. “Is that such a good idea?”

Reeve gave up and opened his eyes, giving Shvedov a deadpan stare. “What? Concentrating?” It was the sort of response that Reeve would expect an eye-roll for. He would have gotten one from Hannah, and a near lethal eye-roll from Alex.

Shvedov’s eyes stayed steady and held his. He’d seen too much to get a rise out of Reeve’s bullshit. It was something Reeve normally liked about him, but not today.

“Scanning the city, checking heads,” Alyosha said finally.

Reeve took a few breaths, eyes darting to the corner of the room. “One problem at a time. Entropy’s the bigger threat and I’m keeping it as low profile as I can to keep us alive.”

Shvedov put up his hands and stood up to go putter around in the kitchen. Reeve didn’t feel like he’d snapped at him, but he was questioning himself now. He wanted to slip into his mind and check, but held back with an effort. Entropy wasn’t in Prague.

***