I shield my eyes as my vision becomes one big sunspot, and wait. Another boat has joined ours. “Who’s with you?” The voice from the other craft is gruff, nervous. “Just my two children. I’ve been gone a week between sleeper assignments. I was to report to New Pert before a stint in Sydney.” Seward rips the arrow’s shaft from the seat. “Why was I fired upon?” “The world is backward. The arrow came from the rebellion. You are fortunate — I’ve not seen a boat survive the river route for some time.” I squint into the light, and he continues. “Yet it is fortunate that you did not first report to Sydney. That city has fallen.” He looks us over once more. “Follow me.” Our escort doesn’t wait for our answer, but powers quickly toward the downtown district. We follow, easing up to the remains of the Great Swan Pier. As children Lendi and I splashed around its support beams. As teens we secretly discussed our desired matches, though jumpy Lendi never did feel comfortable with the issue.
