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Amazon.”
    Saoirse didn’t know whether to trust these two or not, even though one was Oshun, a goddess to whom she had prayed every night of her life. It was true, the Amazons had saved her from a world of servitude under Emetor Kain, the Elsephela and a Danna, but she’d never been able to trust anyone completely before. Those with power might give her a place in this world, but it always came at a price. Ultimately, authority figures always seemed to sell girls like Saoirse for a profit, and now President Hippolyta was delivering her to an “Academy” that wanted to use Saoirse’s skills for their own ends. Whether those ends were noble or not, Saoirse was paralyzed with fear; after a moment of indecision, she subconsciously fell back on Emetor Kain’s training and became deferential.
    “Thank you, President.”
    President Hippolyta smiled.
    “Yes, indeed, and one more thing. We spent quite a bit of time scouring Elysia for survivors and found something for you. Oshun can understand it and said that it was calling your name specifically.”
    President Hippolyta snapped her fingers, and two more guards came in.
    They had a long chain, and attached to it was the Elsephela’s striped hyaena.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    PESTILENCE
    Tommy Alderon woke up to the smell of burning leaves, or perhaps a Norseman’s funeral pyre.
    “It’s the Isle of Elysia, right over there,” said Brother Kojo, who had come to wake Tommy up. “Someone burned it last night. It’s no more.”
    Tommy looked out the window and it was true; there were a hundred boats salvaging people and goods, but the island itself was now ashes.
    “My father told me of the Island,” said Kojo. “It ran twenty-four hours a day, every day, war time and peace time. Open constantly for two centuries. They claimed they held only Hetaerae there, but you could get anything you wanted there for a price. Anything .
    “Their only rule was absolute privacy; no photographs, no paintings, no reporters. But now look at it. In a few days it will be as if it had never existed.”
    Kojo always spoke so beautifully, rationally. He was a soft-spoken, thoughtful young man, and Tommy liked him. He had come to Lepros a year ago as a young Samaritan training to be a nurse, and within a year he had contracted smallpox. His Yoruban skin, once unbroken and new, looked like someone had dragged him over coals.
    But he didn’t seem to mind; the Samaritans never seemed to mind when they contracted a disease from their denizens. The Samaritans considered scars a badge of honor and pointed at them whenever they used sacred words like humility , faith and penance.
    Kojo joked that his scars inoculated him against other infections; indeed, he was one of the few people that dared stay around Tommy.
    “Will there be another island?” asked Tommy.
    “Most definitely,” said Kojo. “Vice is part of humanity. There will always be those who’ll go to any length to acquire more than is allowed. And there will always be those who’ll sell more than is allowed. Vice isn’t a function of morality; it’s a function of opportunity.
    “But that’s for Elysia, or whatever island will take its place,” said Kojo with a smile. “We are different on Lepros, or at least try to be. Speaking of which, some new denizens came in last night. Plague, I believe. I’d like them to see your suit at morning bells; it will give them hope.”
    The sun was just beginning to come up, and Tommy saw Low Priest Aaron ambling across the courtyard towards the bell tower. The Samaritans always rang the bells at 5:00 a.m. No one was required to wake at the hour; some had sleep disorders and couldn’t wake at all. But most Leprosians attended the event; it gave them structure to their day and a sense of community.
    Kojo helped Tommy into his mechanical suit; he loved the suit that Tommy had built. Tommy had originally created it as a hermetically sealed outfit that