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“Hell with it,” said Kerney.
 
“How are you doing it?”
 
He walked over to Zacharies, reaching a hand towards his face.
 
Zacharies took a step back, the chair jerking in the air, following Zacharies’ movement backward.

“Yeah,” said Mike, “that’s where you guys come in.
 
If I knew how he was doing it, it’d be in my report already.”

“Are you saying—” said Yelden.

“He’s a telekinetic?”
 
Kerney swallowed, then took another step towards Zacharies.
 
Zacharies stepped back, the chair drifting again.
 
“The military applications…”

“Please,” said Zacharies.
 
“I just want to find my sister.”

“You have a sister?” said Yelden.
 
“Can she do this?”

“Apparently not,” said Mike.
 
“Different thing.”

“Her gift is different.”
 
Zacharies shrugged.
 
“Bigger and smaller.”

“Right,” said Kerney.
 
He rubbed at the stain on his lip.
 
“Protocol is clear.
 
We need to get him in a chair.”

“Go ahead,” said Mike, stepping back to the edge of the room.

“Are you giving authorization?” said Yelden.

“No,” said Mike.
 
“I’m just an observer.”

Yelden turned to Kerney.
 
“Security is on the way.”

“Security?” said Zacharies.
 
“What needs to be secured?”

The door whispered open again, three men stepping through.
 
They wore clothing of —
hard, strong material, rigid against his mind —
strange cut, weapons in their hands.
 
Zacharies’ eyes narrowed, recognizing the shape of the devices from what the angel had carried.
 
“Are these men angels?”

“No,” said Mike, behind him.
 
“You don’t need to go easy on ‘em.”

Yelden pointed at Zacharies.
 
“Detain him.”

One of the three men took a step forward, then stopped, looking at the chair.
 
“Is that chair floating in the air?”

“Kinda,” said Mike.
 
“You need to think carefully, sergeant.
 
How do you want this day to end?”

The sergeant looked over at Mike, then back at Zacharies.
 
“Don’t take this personal, kid.”
 
He pulled a smaller device from behind him, pointed it at Zacharies.
 
The device hissed and spat, the dart —

Stopping in the air in front of Zacharies.
 
Zacharies reached out a finger, touching the tip of it, turning it in the air.
 
“Please.
 
I just want to find my sister.”

“Kid,” said Mike, “the fastest way to find your sister is to get taken seriously.
 
I take you seriously.
 
These guys?
 
Orangutans.”

The sergeant’s face twisted, and he waved his men forward.
 
The man to his left took two steps, and —

The chair moved through the air, black leather and metal, and the man raised his weapon up in surprise, firing.
 
The rounds tore through the chair, shredding an arm from it before it slammed into him, knocking him through the air and into the wall.

The second man paused, then raised his rifle, pointing it at Zacharies.
 
The sergeant started to say something, saw what was about to happen —

Reach deep.
 
Into the stone and rock.
 
It’s dead, long turned, warped by the hands of men, but it will suffice.

The floor ripped upwards, cement and tiles showering up.
 
A slab of concrete the size of a man rose from the ground to stand between the guard and Zacharies.
 
The security guard’s weapon fired, the bullets hitting the concrete, chips and splinters spraying out.

“I said, cease fire!”
 
The sergeant knocked the other man’s weapon down.
 
“Christ.
 
What the hell—”

“That’ll do, kid,” said Mike, stepping forward.
 
“Well played.”

Yelden and Kerney got up from where they had crouched behind lab equipment.
 
“What—” said Yelden.

“He—” said Kerney.

“I think,” said Mike, “that the best thing we can do right now is help Zach here find his sister.
 
What do you fellas think?”

The sergeant stepped towards the cement block, looking down at the floor underneath.
 
“He’s ripped a hole in the floor.
 
He ripped a fucking hole in the floor.”

“Yeah,” said Mike.
 
“Make sure you put it in your report.
 
C’mon, kid.”
 
He led Zacharies from the room.

Zacharies stopped in the corridor outside, looking back in.
 
Kerney and Yelden were looking into the hole left by the cement slab, and the sergeant was bawling at his man.
 
The third man was still out cold at the side of the room.

“Mike,” he said.

“Yeah, kid?”

“There are a
lot
of assholes in Heaven.”

Mike laughed, then turned away.
 
“Yeah, kid.
 
Yeah, there are.”

“What…
 
What happened there?”

Mike shrugged, walking down the corridor.
 
“You made some enemies.”

Zacharies frowned.
 
“Why did I do that?”

“So you can find your sister.”

Mike continued walking, and Zacharies hurried to catch up.
 
“I don’t understand.”

“No,” said Mike, “I expect you don’t.”

“Will the link tell me?”

“No.
 
No, this is shit that’s not in the link.”

“Then why?”

Mike stopped, turning to look at him.
 
“Kid?”

“Yes, Mike.”

“This isn’t Heaven.
 
It’s just a world, and not a very good one.”

“But—”

“Wait.”
 
He held up a hand, face serious.
 
“There aren’t angels, and there aren’t demons.
 
There’s just people.”

“What about the…
 
I saw him, Mike.
 
He fell from the sky.”

Mike frowned at him.
 
“He wasn’t an angel.”

“My sister said he was.”
 
Zacharies swallowed.
 
“She is always right.”

“Fair enough,” said Mike.
 
“Look, it’s…”

“Yes?”

“There were two ways this could go.
 
Either they’d strap you to a chair and pull your head open, or…”
 
He trailed off, looking at his shoes.
 
“You make people fear to touch you.
 
I can’t do that.
 
I can’t always be there.”

Zacharies looked past Mike, at the wall behind him.
 
He was thinking of Laia, crying in the night.
 
“No, you can’t,” he said.
 
“You can’t always be there.”

“This way, I don’t have to be.”
 
Mike turned and walked on.

After a moment, Zacharies followed.
 
But he was still thinking about his sister.
 
He hoped she was right about the angel.
 
If he was an angel, he would be able to protect her in the night.

The way you never could
.

Zacharies shook his head, but the thought stayed.
 
It rang true, and he hated it.

“The problem with you,” said Mason, “is that you’ve got no sense of gratitude.”

“Right,” said Sadie, turning.
 
Mason could see the anger stitching its way down her, the way she moved her head, the way she stood, the way she looked at him.
 
“I should be
happy
you dragged me out to the middle of Fucksville.”

“To be fair, this was not my first choice of place.”

“Oh yeah?
 
Where was your first choice?
 
A graveyard?”

Mason walked over to the gap in the wall, staring out at the rain that lashed and coiled in the street outside.
 
His hand touched the edge of the old brick, some of it crumbling away.
 
The lattice shuddered inside him, a flash of remembered nausea climbing up.
 
“A sex hotel.”

“A…”
 
She stopped, her eyes wide.
 
“A…
 
A what?”

“Sex hotel,” said Mason.
 
“Look, if it’s all the same, I’m going to get some more cigarettes.”

“Don’t you dare walk away,” said Sadie.
 
“Don’t you dare.”

“Hey,” said Mason.
 
“I’m not walking away.
 
I’m walking out there.
 
You can come with.”

He watched her watch the rain, the edges of her eyes softening for just a moment before the sharpness returned.
 
“Whatever, company man.
 
Go get yourself killed.”

Mason shrugged, pulling out the rumpled pack of Marlboros.
 
One left
.
 
He tucked the packet back into the armor’s pouch, then turned to Haraway.
 
“Look after the kid, ok?”

Haraway looked pale, drawn and thin.
 
She hadn’t wanted to get into the conversation between him and Sadie.
 
Fair enough — Mason hadn’t really wanted to either.
 
The rain was as much of an escape as a —

Sound.
 
Shapes in the rain.

The lattice tugged his gaze outside into the street, but there wasn’t anything there.
 
Mason watched through the break in the wall for a few moments, then said, “Laia.”

The girl was at his side almost straight away.
 
Mason didn’t like that look in her eyes, the way she —

Adoration.

— followed his every moment.
 
“Yes, Lord?”

He winced at the same time that Sadie snorted.
 
“It’s just Mason, kid.”
 
He pointed into the rain.
 
“Is it still there?”

She nodded, eyes solemn.
 
“It’s everywhere.
 
Always.
 
It’s not leashed here.”

“Here?”
 
Haraway leaned forward, some of the weariness leaving her face for a moment.

“This world,” said Laia.
 
“It has no master.
 
Like me.”
 
The girl shrugged, a small smile dimpling her face.
 
“Water flows when it has no container.”

“But you pushed it out,” said Mason.
 
“You made it leave.
 
Leave me.”

“Yes,” said Laia.
 
She frowned, looking at his face, his body, his legs.
 
“It’s gone, Lor—
 
Mason.”

Good enough for me.
 
There really is something in the rain.
 
“Ok,” he said.

“You’re really going back out there?”
 
There was something in Sadie’s voice.
 
Not concern, just —

“Yeah.”
 
Mason stretched his shoulders, the plates of the armor moving over each other.
 
He reached over his shoulder, unslinging the rifle.
 
He held it to Sadie.
 
“I know you know your way around one of these.
 
Saw your work.
 
In the van.”

Her eyes widened.
 
“You’re…
 
You’re giving me a gun?”

Mason frowned.
 
“Sure.
 
Why not?”

“Because…”
 
She stopped, looking at the gun again.
 
“I—”

“You figured we pulled you out, abducted you like some asset, were going to run down your brain in a company lab, the doctor here frying your insides like a good steak.”
 
Mason jerked his head at Haraway.
 
“Honestly?
 
Between you and me, I don’t think she’s up for it.”

Sadie’s eyes flicked to Haraway.
 
“It’s just—”

“Forget it,” said Mason.
 
“Know how to use it?”
 
He hefted the rifle again.

“I guess,” said Sadie.
 
She reached out a hand, her fingertips touching the rifle.
 
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to…”

Haraway spoke up from the floor.
 
“I’m a little worried about that.”
 
There was something wry in her voice.

Mason held Sadie’s eyes.
 
“No.
 
I’m not worried about that.”

“But I might—”

“I’m not worried about that either.”
 
Mason shrugged.
 
“Take it or don’t.”

Sadie took the rifle, Mason watching as the weight of it tugged at her arms.
 
She wasn’t weak, she didn’t drop it, but…

“What about a sub?”
 
He unclipped the subs from his belt.
 
“Smaller.
 
Faster.”

“A lady’s weapon?”
 
Sadie’s lips went hard.

“Do I look like a lady?” said Mason.
 
“No.”
 
He turned, putting the subs on a rotted bench top.
 
“I’m going hunting.”

“Hunting?”
 
Haraway frowned.
 
She looked between the rifle and the subs.
 
“It’s a dead city.
 
What for?”