“We’re not too far away now, everybody.” Teddy called over the wind. Enoa could just see him beneath the front of the tarp that hid the Aesir crew. Teddy usually kept the insulated cover stretched over his dune buggy’s rear section. It shielded his coolers of baked goods from sun and sand. Now, the tarp hid three wanted travelers en route to the Death Valley Transmission Relay.

“It actually hurts to look at the sunlight.” Jaleel rubbed his eyes. “Three hours hiding and I’m already a mole man.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Teddy said. “There was a lot of human experimentation that went on around here. Might be disrespectful to the mole man community.”

“I don’t think the Hierarchia had mole men, Ted.” Orson sat huddled at the far side of the buggy. He worked by the light of his goggles, writing in a small notepad.

The three of them sat snug in cushioned makeshift seats. Their legroom was occupied by their backpacks, Orson’s assorted weaponry, and a vintage beige computer – tower, keyboard, and monitor – that had been bungee tied between them.

“You say that like it’s ridiculous,” Teddy said. “But you’ve fought cyborgs and sorcerers and you live in a spaceship-camper so, uh, maybe that’s a little hypocritical of you there, bud.”

“Yeah, Orson,” Enoa said. “Teddy lives underground. I think he’d knows if there are mole men.”

“Fair.” Orson carefully tore a page from the notes and slid it into one of his coat’s pockets, where it was draped beside him. “By her logic, Ted, that probably makes you a mole man too.”

Teddy gasped in mock horror. “You’ve discovered my secret!”

“Is the Aesir really a spaceship?” Jaleel asked. “Or is that just, like, a colorful comment?”

“Woah!” Teddy yelled. “You didn’t give them the big backstory! You gotta give them the big backstory, man!”

“What Backstory?” Enoa asked.

“Did you forget to tell us it’s a spaceship?” Jaleel asked. “Have I been living in a spaceship without knowing it?”

“It’s not a spaceship,” Orson said. “It can’t escape Earth’s atmosphere, but you can live in it once you get out there. It’s pressurized, you know that, and it has life support and atmospheric controls and everything that keeps you from having a horrible space death.”

“I’m living in a spaceship!” Jaleel leaned back against his seat’s cushion. “I have ten-year-old me’s dream life. Can I tell my family I live in a spaceship? I have to tell Jordyn. She’ll be so confused.”

“Sure,” Orson said. “It’s not like it’s a secret anymore. Those Hierarchia files are leaked. Actually, if you want some really wild reading, check out the Xanadu Initiative Reports. The Aesir was originally part of that, and Eloise has all of those files in her basement. That’ll do a better job explaining this than I will.”

“Yeah, man,” Teddy added. “That’s a long story with prophecies, doomsday preppers, the fall of civilizations and shit like that.”

“I don’t know anything about prophecies,” Orson said. “But it brings us back on topic – all the old IHSA files that were leaked over the last decade – they’re step one for the heist. We need to find the floor plan to that base in Idaho the Liberty Corps is using.”

“If the base isn’t new,” Jaleel said. “The Liberty Corps seems like it’s doing alright for itself. It could be new.”

“I don’t think so,” Orson said. “They have that Starbird carrier. It took years to build those things, and I really doubt the Liberty Corps is doing better than the U.S. was. They might have completed that ship, but I bet it was lying around from the Hierarchia. That base is probably wherever it was being built. It takes a lot of real estate to park one of those. Even with the cloaking devices, something that big can’t move without leaving some trail.”

“Maybe that ship is dropping people off at the Idaho place,” Jaleel said. “It could just stay in the sky there, over this other base for days. Who’s going to attack it?”

“They would’ve moved it by now,” Orson said. “The mites are starting to lose power, and if that ship’s still there when they shut down, I’m gonna assume that thing lives there.”

“What does any of this have to do with finding the information about the island?” Enoa asked.

“Because if I’m right,” Orson said. “Then the heist is possible. Pops and Eloise should be able to confirm that the place is Hierarchia and that it had an analog database or key terminal. A terminal base with a Starbird makes me think Headquarters, and an old school Hierarchia man like Helmont will want all his Dreamside Road data close to home.

“If all of that works out,” Orson went on. “The Shoshone Reclamation Network can maybe get us some current information. How does this base get supplies? What interactions does this place have with the outside world? That’s where we’ll find our way in. If we’re lucky and smart, we’ll be able to sneak in and steal the information we need without anyone knowing.”

“And hopefully we can do it without hiding forever,” Enoa said. “While the Liberty Corps keeps hunting the Dreamside Road.”

“Yep,” Orson said. “Once today’s field trip is done, we’ll do everything we can to get things moving with the heist.”

“I’m still not sure if I should send messages back home,” Enoa said. “I don’t want to scare my friends. It’s not like they can do anything. And telling Sheriff Webster… I don’t know, what if she went after that Liberty Corps robot?”

“She might.” Orson leaned to the side so he could stretch out his legs along the back of the buggy. “And we don’t know what that model does. Do you think you could warn Webster or the town council and let them know it’s connected to Tucker’s mission?”

“Orson, are you really going to tell your friends to just ignore those probes flying around?” Enoa asked.

“Most of Orson’s friends could shoot down one of those eggs,” Teddy said. “Only his family would be in trouble.”

“I’m telling everyone the truth,” Orson said. “I’m investigating something the Hierarchia used to have, but lots of other people want it. As long as that probe doesn’t see me, it shouldn’t hang around very long.”

“Do you think Sirona still has Cardboard Orson?” Teddy called. “We could use him as bait.”

“Cardboard Orson?” Enoa asked. “I don’t even know how to mock you about that one.”

“Just don’t.” Orson shook his head.

“I wonder,” Teddy said, “if that probe would notice that your cardboard likeness is a wee baby Orson, instead of your mature adventuring self.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Orson said. “Although a trap is not a bad idea. If I was anywhere but out here I might try trapping that probe. See what it’s made of. But I should just send my messages. I think I have it down to six or seven messages. I need to get back to Pops and Eloise. I have to warn my cousin Clark who I lived with. And my dad, the Inn at the Evergreen Forest, and the Solar Saver Collective.”

“The Solar Saver?” Jaleel asked. “Are you going to contact Commodore Augustin and Chief Morita?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Orson said. “Maybe I should go through Pops and his people, instead. I don’t like the idea of your wanted poster winding up back there, without warning, and messing with your work agreement.”

“Oh!” Jaleel sat up. “I never thought about that. What would I do if, like, the Great Lakes Alliance accepts the Liberty Corps as a legitimate government and goes along with them and says we’re all serious outlaws! It’s fun being outlaws to the Liberty Corps, but I don’t want my parents to think I’m an outlaw… Again.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” Orson said. “Let’s be real, the Liberty Corps isn’t going to share. They’re either taking all of the old United States, if not more, or they’re getting destroyed. Seriously, I don’t think this is a real problem. I just… I try to stay ahead of all my baseless fears.”

“Hey, figure out who you want to talk to,” Teddy said. “We’re here.” The dune buggy continued forward another brief stretch, before halting. “Do you think the regular scan will lemme know if you’re safe to come out?”

“Thermal scan should,” Orson said.

“Okay.” After a pause, there came the sound of footsteps, booted feet across gravel. “Looks good.”

“I’ll look too.” Orson slipped his leg into his repulsor boot and his arms into his coat. “If everything’s okay, we’ll get this done.” He left the tarp ajar as he stepped out. Enoa forced her eyes to adjust to the light. “I don’t see anything. We should be alright, but masks or hoods up.”

Enoa had been comfortable enough during the ride over, unmoving in the shade of the insulated tarp. But when she stood in the open, the heat settled over her like a physical weight, a burden across her entire body.

They gathered at the end of a small gravel road at the side of a long, low ravine. The dune buggy was parked only feet from a squat brick building, with a series of antennas on its roof. Some of the antennas ended in radar dishes, but most did not. Most were like the spindly legs of long-dead insects, curled up toward the sun.

“I thought dry heat wasn’t supposed to feel as hot.” Jaleel pulled on his archer mask. “They filmed Star Wars pretty close to here. I really wanted to check out where they did the Mos Eisley cliff scene, but I also don’t want to die on Tatooine.”

“Humidity isn’t the only thing that makes you feel toasty,” Teddy said.

“You might cool off when that passes over.” Orson pointed to the horizon, the far side of the valley, and a mass of dark gray clouds.

“We don’t want to be out here when that hits,” Teddy said. “You’ve never been out here for a rain, have you, Orson?”

“No,” Orson said.

“Your search for the dreaming toad won’t last long if you get washed away.” Teddy approached the building’s lone window. He rapped on the glass with his knuckles, like he was knocking on a door.

“Did he just say ‘toad’?” Jaleel asked.

Teddy waited only seconds before knocking again. “C’mon man, we don’t have all day. There’s a storm coming.”

The window was apparently not a window at all. It was a screen that lit up and displayed the cartoony caricature of a balding man with thick eyebrows and a snow-white mustache. The animation stood in front of a simplified desert background.

“Hey, Roger,” Teddy said. “How are you, man? Still in business?”

“I still need money, don’t I?” A scratchy voice chortled. The man’s animated mouth flapped up and down, not quite in sync with the voice’s words. He raised his hand to his forehead, like he was shading his eyes, trying to get a good look at something through the intense sunlight. “Hiding fugitives again, Ted? You don’t know what’s good for ‘ya. You’ve got a dangerous taste in friends.”

“If by that,” Teddy said. “You mean that I make friends with the most dangerous people of all, then I guess you might be right.”

“No,” Cartoon Roger said. “I mean openly traveling with three wanted persons ain’t a bright thing to do and is liable to get you hurt.”

“Who is this guy?” Jaleel asked. “Do we have to work with the super-sketchy cartoon man?”

“Roger runs transmission relays all over the desert,” Teddy said. “Don’t worry about him. He’s too Libertarian to want the Liberty Corps to do a big iron-fist takeover. Besides, this whole operation is contracted with the Shoshone. He’d be pretty dumb to turn us in. This little building would be totally cleaned out by the time he could even get here.”

“I wouldn’t need to get anything,” Cartoon Roger said. “I could retire on those bounties. I could’ve retired twenty years ago with what they’re offering. Hell, I already never go there.” The animated image shrugged. “But I don’t want to spend my golden years looking over my shoulder.”

“Yeah, Roger,” Teddy said. “Remember the afternoon of June the twenty-eighth, twenty-seventeen. I delivered a Daffodil birthday cake, with a citrus glaze and edible pansies, to your bungalow. I know where you live.”

“See now I need to be scared,” Cartoon Roger said. “When somebody does report you to the Baron, you’ll come gunning after me.”

“No, you’re in luck,” Orson grinned. “I have at least half-a-dozen messages to encrypt today. After helping us, you’ll also be a criminal to the Liberty Corps, so we’ll all stay friends without any temptation. Plus, with what you charge, I’ll be giving you a nice payment for your retirement fund.”

“Gregory’s in a grim mood too, hey?” The cartoon man took a step back in astonishment. “Times are tough, aren’t they? Well, you’re not wrong. I like my money stabile and friendly. I’ll unlock the booth around back. Usual deal. Nothing’s changed. Make sure you collect your transmission receipts. Why do some people drive all this way to disguise their calls, in all that California white noise, just to leave their printouts behind?” The cartoon man waved before the screen turned dark again.

“Cool.” Teddy drove the dune buggy around the side of the building. He parked at a back door. It was set within an alcove of the wall and had no doorknob.

Orson helped Teddy move the computer from beneath the tarp. They set it beside the alcove. Then Orson pressed his hand to the door. It sprang open, revealing only darkness. Steam oozed from the entryway, and Enoa felt a blast of the temperature-maintained, cold air.

Orson raised his hand and stepped forward, peering into the darkened room. The overhead lights activated as he approached. Enoa saw seven black computer terminals inside. They had smooth, rounded edges and blinking red lights. These were all wired into a triple-monitor setup, the screens pressed up against the far side of a wall of bulletproof glass. Only an adjustable leather desk chair, a keyboard, and what appeared to be a vintage landline phone, were positioned on the customer’s side of the glass. The glass made the space deceptive. The customer area was little larger than an average public bathroom stall.

“Okay.” Orson hauled it with him into the little booth. “Hopefully I remember how to do this. Don’t blow anything up while I’m in there. When I need you two, I’ll be back. Enoa, decide if you want to warn anyone, and I’ll need a phone number or some kind of internet address.”

“The local Nimauk network isn’t connected to the outside world,” Enoa said. “But if phones work, there is still a landline in the Sheriff’s office. Will they be able to pick up?”

“Does that phone have an answering machine?” Orson asked. “That’s where the message goes, burst transmission straight to voicemail. You can’t pick up. This is jury-rigged IHSA stuff, combining their space age comms with standard phones.” He rested his hand on the doorframe. “Alright, we don’t have all day.” He pressed the door closed.

Teddy got to work recording recipes and ingredient lists into an old smartphone. Enoa could occasionally make out a word or two – lemons, spatula, sanding sugar…

Jaleel unrolled a long diagram of a new bow. He sat against the dune buggy, writing and sketching, marking the drawing with a red pencil.

Enoa considered her own work, all the unwatched tapes still waiting for her in the Aesir. What training could she do here? Any explosions were out of the question, as per Orson. Water was too scarce to do any extravagant Anemos transmutation without running the risk of altering some ecological balance she didn’t know about.

How much effort would it take to form a single droplet from the air? There was scarce water anywhere around her, nothing substantial but the distant and growing storm.

Except that wasn’t true. There was water near her, in the earth. She could feel it, deep below her, below the sand – down there, even the desert had water, a whole layer of saturated dirt. It teemed with life, blind and squirming, an alien world that did not feel the heat of the sun or know the trials of the surface.

Enoa felt the motion in the water. She followed the life with her mind, until she found herself focusing on the motion alone, the microscopic organisms and worms and even fish, until she could almost sense them independently of any water.

She stopped thinking about the water, and earth, and the life beneath her feet, when the ship tore overhead, blasting low over the valley. She and Jaleel ran into the door alcove, huddled out of sight. Teddy pulled binoculars from the dune buggy and raced past them.

“I don’t know that one,” he said. “It’s like a little flying doorstop. So fast!” Jaleel could not resist this. He peered around the side of the building. Enoa didn’t join him. She reached instead to the thin, faint moisture in the sky, the small particles that rubbed against the aircraft as it blasted overhead.

Her impressions of the craft were brief, but Teddy was right. It was a perfect flying wedge, no wings or protrusions for guns or landing gear. She couldn’t feel the back – too hot.

The booth door again sprang open. “Alliance ship.” Orson stepped out. “Probably patrolling the edges of their territory or doing something with meteorology.”

Enoa followed him out of the alcove. She located the wedge with her eyes and watched it comb the valley.

“You ever see one like that before?” Teddy asked.

“No,” Orson said. “If I had to guess, the Alliance is finishing some IHSA prototypes, but they’ll need them with the Liberty Corps cruising around in their Starbird.”

The ship passed over the valley again before flying directly into the forming clouds. Enoa reached to the storm, but the ship flew too quickly to give her more than a fleeting sensation of motion through the moisture.

“With the sky so busy,” Orson continued. “Maybe we better all smush into the booth.”