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to the question in her eyes. “This is amazing !”
    “And it’s so horrible for you! I think that’s what makes it better!” she agreed enthusiastically. “We only get it on storm nights. I think it’s to keep our endorphins up.”
    Well, my endorphins were probably about to gush out of my ears. I got a piece from a different pie, and it had other stuff on it, which was just as good. By the fourth piece, I was ready to call it quits and just wallow in my chair. But then they brought around more pizzas that had apple slices, raisins, honey, and spices, and it would have been rude not to have some of that.
    Everyone else was just as stuffed; the babble of conversation died down, people started finding places to sit, including the floor, and someone tuned the vid-screen to what looked like a club. It was jammed . The music was really good, though.
    “Is that a recording?” I asked Trev.
    He shook his shaggy head. “No, it’s a storm party. People who won’t have to go to work tomorrow go to their favorite clubs when there’s a storm warning up. They’ll just stay there, dancing and drinking until the storm’s over. That’s probably the vid-feed from someone famous.”
    I nodded. Herd instinct, and weren’t we pretty much doing the same here? Something as big as that storm out there…made you want to huddle together and do things to forget what’s outside.
    But that made me think of Mark, and I texted him. Want some pizza?
    I got back an immediate reply. I was debating that, but not in the mood for a crowd.
    That decided me. I’ll bring you some. That was only fair. Mark was one of my best friends here. The least I could do was bring him pizza.

I KNOCKED ON MARK Knight’s door; my Perscom had led me right to it, of course, even though I had never been to his suite. “Pizza-bot!” I said as I balanced one of the platters with a mix of slices on it, including the sweet stuff. The platter stayed warm somehow, which kept the food warm. When he opened the door, I handed him the platter. “Did you get warning out to the people in Spillover?” I asked.
    He looked surprised and pleased that I had asked. “They actually keep better track of the weather than we do,” he said. “But, yeah, they got under shelter, the ones I knew how to find. There’s more protection out there than you might think—from storms, anyway.”
    But not from Othersiders… Well, by my way of thinking, and by Mark’s too, that was why there were Hunters patrolling out there.
    But he was standing there looking awkward and I knew why. Knight is a Christer, and engaged to a home girl on top of that. If he didn’t invite me in, it would look rude, and if he did , well, by his lights he was compromising my virtue (such as it is), possibly being unfaithful to his girl, and possibly endangering both our souls.
    “Thanks for looking out for them,” I said. “And now that I know you aren’t going to waste away, I’m headed back to the lounge.”
    “If you want a good look at the storm, pull up one of the external feeds on HQ,” he said, looking relieved. “I’ll just say I’m glad there’s a foot of reinforced ’crete on the roof.”
    I nodded; he succumbed to temptation and started eating. He offered me the tray politely, but I waved it away.
    “I should let you enjoy your food. And at least we’re going to find the storm sewers clean of Othersiders for a bit after this.”
    He nodded. “They’ll be fishing Othersider bodies out of the reservoirs for a couple of days. I don’t envy whoever has that job.”
    Huh. So that’s where the storm sewers lead.
    “Back home, we saved the storm water too; it’s less contaminated than the ground and well water,” Mark said, reminding me that his original home had been something not unlike a death trap. Then he smiled. “But now we don’t have to, unless we feel like it, thanks to you. I got my first batch of letters today since they moved. My people love it in your