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They were in a garden, the kind most buildings in the area had. Irina knelt behind a row of berry bushes, motioning for Darica to join her. She had no idea what the other woman was watching for, but she looked around, trying to figure it out. When they got up, Irina headed for the cyke garage, picking a pear from a tree she passed under. Darica tried to copy her, since it was obviously all right, but couldn’t quite reach; she jumped and snagged one, but it wouldn’t let go. She kept tugging, and the stem finally snapped, sending the branch rustling back into the air. Irina looked back with a glare as Darica ran to catch up with her. Way to act like a thief, she scolded herself, putting the pear in her bag as she went.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that the outer garage door was unlocked, or that there were no cykes inside. As many frames had cyke locks hanging broken as had no locks at all. The inside door looked to have lost a struggle with a crowbar and a foot; Irina pointed her gun inside it for a moment before they went through into a hallway. After a tense, twisty walk in the dark, they came out into the courtyard of an apartment building that looked eerily like Darica’s own. The colors were different, the stairs spirals rather than angular, but she could imagine going up to the second floor, opening the right door, and finding herself staring back. At knifepoint, she thought, and turned to see that Irina had gone through a door that her building didn’t have. She went through and found herself in the middle of a convocation of ash-covered people lounging against washing machines.