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was clear, and what cars there were had long been pushed over to the shoulder. The cars had been stripped of any useful components long ago, leaving behind metal shells.
    It was a near-straight shot south to Port Town. To the east and west, tall buildings rose. The lifeless, eastern hills marched north to south. Everything looked empty of life.
    The silence stretched on, and was starting to get to me, so I decided to talk to Francisco.
    “What’s it like, being a courier?”
    “When the Emperor has a message to carry, he needs a man he can trust. That man is me.”
    “Do people live this far out?”
    “Most of the city is abandoned. The Reapers say they control everything, but that’s only in name. The farther from downtown, the more dangerous. Many criminals live here, outside the Reapers’ justice. Or so I’ve heard.”
    “The Reapers’ justice?” Anna asked. “Didn’t know there was such a thing.”
    Francisco chuckled. “Even a man like Carin must keep peace. In the Empire, the old cities are the same. They are too large to control.” Francisco made a sweeping gesture toward the crumbling, abandoned cityscape. “What you see here, my friends – that is no city. It is as wild as any jungle of Nova Roma.”
    The rest of the trip passed in silence. On our left, I noticed a wide, concrete-lined ditch, dry as a bone. The ditch ran even with the highway for a long while before widening and filling with dull, gray water. A high, arched bridge crossed the ditch that was now as wide as a river. The highway twisted, and Francisco followed its arc, before crossing the bridge.
    “Long Beach,” Francisco said. “Now called Port Town by the locals.”
    My gaze went out over the water. Docked in one of the harbors were fourteen wooden ships, sails furled after their long voyage. A good half of the ships were large things, with three masts and meant for carrying large quantities of cargo. The other ships were smaller, but sleeker, built for speed. These ships might have been the escort for the cargo ships. Men moved on the docks below, going on and off the ships, unloading crates of supplies.
    “That’s a sight,” Anna said.
    “The supplies will be traveling north to join Augustus’s forces,” Francisco said. “The fleet will return to Nova Roma in the morning.”
    “A long way to come just to go home,” I said.
    “Augustus needed the supplies,” Francisco said. “These waters are usually bad, so it’s good fortune that they made it.”
    The ships disappeared from view as Francisco drove the Recon down the bridge and entered the street. We continued to drive down the avenue, each side of the street flanked by buildings that had seen much better times. Trees stood wilted and fallen in the narrow median and on the avenue’s sides. Dirt covered much of the road and sidewalk. Sailors milled in and out of one the buildings, most of them jovial.
    “There are the bars,” Anna said.
    “They should still be working,” Francisco said.
    Whether they were supposed to be working or not was not really my concern. I was just here to find Marcus and Char.
    “Pull up here,” I said. “We’ll start our search at this place.”
    I could hear the sailors’ raucous laughter, even inside the Recon. They wore baggy cargo pants and plain shirts, for the most part, overlaid with heavy jackets designed to protect from the harsh sea wind. Several pointed at us.
    “Careful,” Francisco said. “Port Town isn’t safe. Don’t be deceived, even if Augustus’s men are here. Some gangs that are discontented with Warlord Black take up residence here.”
    “Good,” I said. “We don’t like Black, either.”
    “I’m just telling you to be careful.”
    “Where can we find you once we get Char and Marcus?” I asked.
    “I’ll be here,” Francisco said. “If not here, then nearby.”
    We left the Recon and stepped onto the dusty street. As Francisco’s Recon drove away, a group of sailors standing in front of a bar