To Gavin’s disappointment, General Heggins was not won over by his cool rock. The general was polite to my son, but his responses were stiff and awkward. I got the impression that there hadn’t been very many children in his life.

Airman Stevens was clearly much more used to kids, although she looked a bit young to have any of her own. Maybe she was older than she looked, or maybe she’d had a lot of siblings. She examined the rock carefully, complimenting its faint sparkles, stripes, and smooth texture. When Gavin used his Shapeshift ability to be “stripey like the rock” she was duly impressed.

She let him down as gently as she could. “I’d love to make the trade! That’s a great rock! Sorry, though: I’m not in charge of who gets to ride in the ‘flyer.’ I have to listen to my boss.”

Gavin looked crushed, but pressed the rock into her hands. “You can have it anyway, since you like it. Then my cool rock can go flying!”

“I’ll treasure it. It can be my good-luck charm! It’ll help me remember your cool stripes, too!”

He managed a small smile for her as she left, but I could tell he was disappointed.

“Maybe when Anju is strong enough, she can take you flying,” I told him. And hopefully, George has strong enough Telekinesis by then to catch Gavin if she drops him or something.

“I guess,” Gavin said. His expression was wistful as he watched Airman Stevens soar away. General Heggins stayed behind, but the other two escorts left with her, sniping bladetails out of the sky before they could get close enough to foul the glider.

It wasn’t long before she returned with Major White and an Information Assistant. There were multiple AI on-base, but the only one who’d been available on short notice was a plush shark named Beebee who belonged to a toddler on the Arsenal’s primary daycare facility. To Cassie’s intense disappointment, Beebee’s owner hadn’t come with; there was only so much space for passengers on the glider, so Beebee had traveled with Major White, tucked carefully into the front of his armored vest. That had been kind of funny in and of itself, honestly, seeing the yellow shark’s giant smile popping out from underneath the major’s serious expression.

The pair didn’t stay long, but the meetings were productive.

“He was quite nice,” Pointy told me. “A bit odd, but pleasant, and he had translation data of his own! A joint effort on the part of all the Arsenal AI. He also had some interesting abilities we hadn't discovered yet, a few of which might be quite useful for Micah. I do hope Airman Stevens can bring one of the others to Fort Autumn for a more extended exchange.”

“Me, too. The general said they would, so…” I shrugged. I was hoping that this relationship with the wider military would be productive, and the information Pointy might receive was one reason I had hope. I tried to focus on the potential positives, rather than sinking into concerns.

Several things the general had said had made me uncomfortable, like his casual mention of having drafted most of the civilians on base. No one else seemed concerned by the news, but most of our party was ex-military. Only Sueann and Clarice weren’t, and Clarice had been married to a military man for more than 40 years.

It was petty of me, but I took a great deal of satisfaction in having disrupted General Heggins' tranquility. When he’d first started grilling Colonel Zwerinski about the black-and-white stripes our party sported, he hadn’t bothered to keep the disgust off his face. When the colonel repeated my points about the uniform, stressing how easy it was to replicate and how limited our supply of military apparel was, I’d seen his revulsion slowly crumble into unhappy acceptance. Begrudgingly, he’d approved black-and-white armbands as a “temporary uniform accessory for the duration of this crisis,” and yes, I felt incredibly smug about that.

We were on the road now, less than two hours after we’d reached the Arsenal outpost; I couldn’t fault the military’s efficiency. A delivery truck filled with guys in camo rolled along behind us as we made our way north.

The fastest path to our destination would probably have been to keep heading east, but I’d convinced the group to take a slightly slower route that would take us past one of the broken Shops. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. Maybe the Shop had been physically damaged somehow; it would be useful to know if it was vulnerable. Plus, I already owned a Shop - if this one was unowned, maybe I could claim it?

Neither I, the colonel, nor General Heggins thought that was likely, but it didn’t seem wholly impossible. The city’s need for food was high enough that we were willing to spend a little time potentially chasing rainbows.

We headed north. Research Park seemed deserted, which made sense. I doubted there was much food in your average office building. Breakroom fridges had probably been completely depleted before an hour had passed. People had likely headed southeast or north, where restaurants and retail would have kept them fed a little longer.

The southern half of Research Park was fairly clear of monsters, probably due to people traveling to and from the army supply depot, but we had to stop several times as we got closer to US 72 to clear badblankets off the wheels. We also had a tense several minutes when we got caught in an enormous herd of mobmu - two or three hundred, far too many for our little group to fight safely without cover. Fortunately, with the doors and windows closed, the mobmu ignored our vehicles. After they disappeared westward, we continued on our way.

I’d heard the broken Shop was just off of Enterprise Road, only a little way south of 72. That didn’t make sense to me, at first; Nancy, the communicator who was now captive, should have seen a Shop placed there when her group passed it. As we got closer, though, I understood: the spire was missing its characteristic soft red glow. It had probably even been visible from the military aid station, but without the red glow, it looked little different from an inactive Points Siphon: a thin dark tower stretching up to the sky. Only as we got within a few hundred feet could I tell that the spire was a dull red instead of black.

The Shop itself was situated in the parking lot of a casual taco restaurant. It was a popular place to eat that had a bright atmosphere and was busy at all hours, serving everything from breakfast tacos to margaritas. Now, it was dark and empty of people. Several tabletops lay on the floor; I assumed people had taken the legs off to use as clubs. Multiple floor-to-ceiling windows had been shattered from the outside, and glass shards littered the booths and floor. Clearly, something had broken in - probably rams.

A few of the legionnaires went inside to check for any missed food. We’d refilled our stockpile of basic rations from Arsenal supplies, but that didn’t mean we didn’t want something better. I’d fight a twenty-monster-marathon for a single cinna-nacho.

While they searched, I inspected the Shop, leaving the kids on the bus with Sueann.

It was clearly abandoned. Not only was the red spire unlit, no one had greeted or challenged us as we approached. Except for the lack of light, the building was identical to the one on my lawn: same pagoda roof, same massive and inappropriate cathedral doors. I walked a complete circle, looking for signs of damage. It was… pristine. There wasn’t so much as a missing curlicue on the ornately-carved doors.

There was graffiti, but I had a hard time believing painted walls could have broken the alien structure. While anything was technically possible, my Shop had been bled on copiously, and it was still doing fine. The graffiti itself offered some hints about what had happened; the Shop had clearly been active for at least a while before breaking. The walls were littered with prayers begging God to return the source of food and apologies for their own sinfulness. There were even some angry screeds blaming all the misfortune that had befallen humanity on the evils of particular groups… women, minorities, other religions, gamers. The usual, I guess.

Cautiously, I peeked inside. There was no ambient lighting. No screens came awake as I entered, and when the door swung shut behind me, the darkness was total. In a human-built structure, there’d be at least a hint of illumination along the edge or bottom of the door. Not here. Even after I gave my eyes a few seconds to adjust, I couldn’t see any variation in the darkness. I hadn’t noticed noise outside, but here in the darkness, I noticed the absence of sound. It was like I had fallen off the world, into an abyss.

For a moment, I had the wild thought that I’d gone through another portal, that I was adrift in space, that the feel of the floor beneath my feet was just an illusion, that I was now lost forever…

I’d never been afraid of the dark before, but the sudden cessation of sensation shocked me.

I breathed a sigh of relief when my waving hand hit the wall. I found the door again by feel, the carved surface easily distinguishable from the smooth walls. I shoved it open and looked around for something to keep it from closing again.

Nothing. Everything in the parking lot was as big as a car or as small and fragile as a shard of glass.

The colonel had also come to inspect the building. I didn’t want to ask him for anything, but I wouldn’t let pettiness hamper our mission. “Could you hold this?”

He nodded and took the door.

His help made all the difference. With the afternoon light, I could see the Shop clearly. It looked like mine: same layout, same muddy tracks from dozens of feet. The inside was as undamaged as the outside. What made it stop working? Can I fix it again?

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of one of the control plinths, then reached out and grasped it with both hands.

There was absolutely no reaction to my touch.

I waited, not wanting to rush to conclusions, but as the seconds ticked by it became obvious that I wasn’t doing anything but wasting time. Feeling a little foolish, I walked over to try the other control plinth.

“Get anything?” Colonel Zwerinski asked. He sounded hopeful, even though the lights and wall screens had remained dark.

“No,” I said. “Something happened here. I don’t see any damage. Either it got broken undetectably, by, I don’t know, radiation or the aliens themselves or something, or the owner died without setting heirs and that… broke it.”

I’d designated my kids and the Turners as heirs in my Shop, which I hoped would keep it active if I died… but I wasn’t keen to test that.

“Damn.” The colonel stepped inside. “Let me check, too. Make sure, while we’re here.”

I took the door from him, but the Shop didn’t respond to his touch either.

What had happened? Had a group attacked the Shop owner, like the Dragons had attacked us? The building wasn’t damaged. Maybe the owner had simply died. The slimes were fairly nasty if you weren’t ready for them. They had probably killed a lot of people who’d gotten used to the flesh-and-blood enemies.

“What a damn waste,” Colonel Zwerinski said, leading the way back to the bus.

For the first time all day, I agreed with him completely.