The second floor of Liat's hideout told a story. There were three bedrooms, a master, and two for children. In one, posters lined the walls, and a derelict computer sat at a wooden desk. Karate trophies filled a shelf—all junior level, meaningless accomplishments that would exist forever in attics and cellars after the child left home. The room spoke of a content childhood. The other bedroom was an infant's, except that the crib had cardboard boxes in it. The room was used for storage. Winnie wondered if the reason for that was morbid, or simply because the infant grew up. Then why wasn't the room converted to a bedroom? Maybe they didn't have time before the Collapse.

"You're procrastinating again," Victoria said.

Winnie's attention snapped back to the chore Victoria had given her. It was really just a flair exercise in disguise. Unfortunately, she was with Victoria in the master bedroom of the house, where Victoria and Liat were setting up the radio pack brought from town. Victoria's aura sense let her know whenever Winnie procrastinated.

"I'm not seeing it," Winnie said.

"Try trying."

That was practically Victoria's mantra.

"Have you tried?" Winnie asked. "The atmosphere is really freakin big. Try it."

"I don't have to. I know where they are. Show me what you're doing." Victoria looked at her pointedly.

Resigned, Winnie looked her in the eye and once again put her mind hundreds of miles above them. From up there, the earth's curves were plain to see. The glowing blue sky was an aura about its surface. She once again began scouring around looking for a single ship supposedly coasting around up there. Even if there were no obstacles to block her view, it was akin to searching for a specific mote of dust on a clean floor.

"First of all," Victoria said, "you're looking much too far up. Their elevation is only twenty-eight kilometers, in the ozone layer."

"I can't see ozone."

"Don't try seeing anything. Sense. You already know how to ignore obstacles in your way. This is the same idea. Looking for a small thing in a big space should not hinder your power. Ignore the distance. That ship is the only thing up here. You should be able to spread your mind over the atmosphere and sense where the ship is."

Winnie wasn't sure what Victoria meant, but she tried something. She'd been advancing her own power to understand it wasn't limited like a camera. It was awareness, just like her lessons had taught her. Her point of view could be omni directional. It could split up. It could read a closed book. It could both see a wall and see through it. Surely she should be able to see a single ship surrounded by miles of nothing.

She closed her eyes and tried—spread her mind, as Victoria had put it. Why not? She imagined a bubble thirty kilometers up in the air, the same size as a bubble created by a child with a bottle of soap and a bubble wand. She expanded this bubble, slowly at first as she made sure she visualized correctly. It was soon the size of a beach ball, then a house, then a stadium. All the while, she tried to sense anywhere the bubble was disturbed. She didn't look for it. In fact, she made a point of closing off her "camera". She felt for it like a spider sensing tremors on its web. Once it was the size of a large island, she started to sense pressure upon the bottom of the bubble. It was the thicker atmosphere, pushing on it with its winds and turbulence. Her bubble fluttered like tissue paper, so she stiffened it and expanded it farther. It became flatter as she stretched it, and it umbrellaed over much of Canada and New England before Winnie felt another disturbance. Just like a mote of dust sticking to a bubble. Something skirting the stratosphere had caught.

It was a small ship emblazoned the HIMS Venezia. Skirting through, she counted twelve airmen, and fifteen or so marines. The captain was standing in a minuscule bridge looking over a display table showing their present course. They'd be directly overhead in about twenty minutes, which would explain Victoria's timetable.

In a cramped ready room off the bridge was High Exemplar Bishop. Winnie had met him before all of this had started. Here he was without his plaque, though he had an assembler-grade tablet and was paging through news articles about hacked glyphs.

"You're gathering all of your exemplars," Winnie said.

"So you found them. Show me. How did you do it?"

Winnie met her eyes.

"By touch. Interesting. That's not what I meant for you to do."

"It worked."

"It certainly did. Your power has evolved just now. I can see it."

"We're after Bishop, right?"

"I'm after everyone aboard that ship."

Liat looked up from her wiring work. "Bishop is alive?"

"Yes. Is the radio set up?"

"I think so."

"Then we'll get started." Victoria started tuning the portable radio's dials.

"If you're trying to reach them," Winnie said, "you do see that Bishop is using the internet right now, right?"

Victoria didn't look up from the dials. "Am I to send them an email to their imperially controlled email addresses? And you expect them to believe me?"

"Oh."

"Put your mind in the bridge, Winnie. Do you see the communications officer?"

Having found the ship once, Winnie was able to return immediately. "Is he the one with the huge headphones?"

"And do you see the short wave receiver frame on his dashboard?"

Winnie did. Victoria set their amateur radio to the same settings.

"Hey, you," Victoria said. The officer didn't react.

"Officer Malcolm Ruiz. I am addressing you."

He hardly blinked. Victoria frowned and fiddled with the scanner.

"No. You got him," Winnie said. Through eye contact, she conveyed how she'd been listening to the officer's headphones.

Victoria tried again. "Listen to me, Lieutenant Ruiz. Flag down Exemplar Bishop. Put him on the comm."

After hesitating, Ruiz opened an editor on his computer and began transcribing an abridged version of Victoria's words.

"No. Stop that," said Victoria. "Stop typing."

He froze.

"Good. Now turn around in your chair. Do it."

Hesitantly, Ruiz did so.

"Now call out to Exemplar Bishop. He's in the other room."

He didn't.

"Why don't you just tell him who you are?" asked Winnie.

"They think I'm dead, and the man already thinks this is a trick, but if this idiot would just get me Bishop..." She depressed the broadcast button again. "Call out to the high exemplar now."

Winnie felt that tingle on her neck. Officer Ruiz instinctively opened his mouth to call, yet paused.

Then, "Captain. I'm picking up a strange message on shortwave."

Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose. Apparently her mysterious command power wasn't perfect.

Stephano and his XO moved closer. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I think someone is trying to contact High Exemplar Bishop."

In the other room, Bishop perked up. Thin walls it seemed. He set aside his tablet and came out.

Stephano was studying the comm officer's console. "Shortwave, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir. A.M. It has to be local."

"Is it repeating?"

"No, it's live."

"Let me hear it."

"Yes, sir." Ruiz tapped buttons. A gentle static sounded from the console.

"Was there anything more to the message?"

Victoria spoke. "No, Captain. I simply wish to speak to Bishop."

Everyone on the bridge turned.

"Are we broadcasting, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir."

"How are they hearing us?"

Ruiz shrugged.

Bishop walked over. "It's the far seeing glyph, Captain. Be careful. They can see and hear all of us."

Stephano addressed the air. "Who is this?"

"If you would please put Bishop on the comm, Captain. This is a private conversation."

Stephano turned to Bishop. "Do you know who they are?"

Bishop shook his head. "They have to be close to Sakhr. He won't have shared that glyph with many."

Victoria's eyes were narrowed. "Sakhr, Bishop? Just how many imperial secrets have you been divulging?"

Bishop stared at the comm with wide eyes. "Give me the headset, Lieutenant."

Stephano nodded to Ruiz, who passed the headphones over. A few console taps and the conversation was private.

"Who is this?" Bishop asked.

"You know who this is," said Victoria, and there was that same undertone—the one that yanked at Winnie's attention.

Bishop couldn't help himself. He laughed a rich, joyful laugh.