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letting forth a mighty yawn. “By the way, I was browsing the America Boards this morning. Did you know we’re ahead of America-Forty-seven now? Way ahead of America-Six.”
    â€œAre we really?”
    Natasha flicked her pinky finger in the feeler cube, drawing up the Extra-Settlement connection. This was the single feed used for communication with the other American settlements, the 158 Dome-capped structures stretching from ocean to ocean, all along latitude 39 degrees North. Besides weather warnings and announcements of new generations, the America Boards served almost exclusively to keep track of the sweeps. One of the programmers in a central settlement had set up a ranking system, where settlements could self-report the number of Tribespeople swept. Officially, the Alphas in America-Five did not approve of this program—though they had never made a rule against it either. America-Five usually ranked very high, in part because they were the easternmost settlement (Americas One through Four had been tragically lost during the Storm, when the ocean surged miles inland, in defiance of all computer models and calculations). America-Five, therefore, intercepted most of the fishing Tribes traveling down the coast. Tribes, in other words, like the Cranes.
    The top rankings on the board read as follows:
    America-158
147,011
America-5
146,987
America-47
146,935
America-6
143,002
    â€œCheck out the total count now,” Eric said, looking over Natasha’s shoulder.
    Natasha scrolled down. The total count, the number of human beings on the North American continent granted mercy since the Storm, was 8,300,019.
    â€œThat’s something, isn’t it?” Eric said. “We’re the ones to push it over 8.3 million. Mother,” he said in a hushed voice, “all those people.”
    There was something in Eric’s tone that Natasha had detected before, a note of giddy self-satisfaction that Jeffrey would have reprimanded him for, had he been here.
    â€œI saw Jeffrey this morning,” Natasha said, reminded of her earlier conversation. “He’s meeting with the Alphas right now about putting together a Recovery team. It’s supposed to go out as soon as we sweep the Pines. Or at least as soon as the Pines are out of the field.”
    â€œI wouldn’t mind being a part of that. Too bad we’re Epsilons.”
    â€œActually, Jeffrey said he’d bring my name up to the Alphas.”
    â€œWhat?” Eric cried. A few people glanced over from nearby cubicles, though when they saw it was only Eric talking, they quickly lost interest. “I logged just as many hours as you this quarter,” he continued. “Plus I was the one to correct the count to 437 when that female gave birth. If you’re getting on that team, then so am I.”
    â€œThe Alphas probably won’t clear it. Like you said, we’re Epsilons.” Natasha was backtracking quickly, but Eric waved her off, shaking his head. “Take it up with Jeffrey then,” Natasha said, very sorry that she had confided in him. She should have known better. Eric was quick and smart at his work, but famously immature.
    â€œYou bet I will. And Arthur too. How come you were on Wave One Defense last night and I got supplies? Playing favorites.”
    â€œEric,” she snapped. “We rotate through those positions. Next alarm, I’ll probably be four levels underground—”
    A new shape on the screen caught Natasha’s eye while, at the same time, Eric’s face widened from an expression of self-absorbed petulance to one of genuine shock.
    â€œOh, no,” Natasha moaned.
    The IR map burned with a fourth orb of radiating life, one much larger than the men. Natasha knew at once what she was seeing: bear. So that’s what the three Pines had been after. Natasha switched to visual. The men stood on a rocky patch of ground, partly walled off by a sharp rise of stone. They