They were running in circles, hitting the same parts of town without any further effect.

When First started leading Raleigh into a fourth round, she gently asked, “Is this really accomplishing anything?”

He stopped cold, midstride, in the middle of the sidewalk, and didn’t even move when passersby bumped into him.

“I don’t ask that to be rude or cruel. But since this is proving ineffective, perhaps…” Perhaps what? She didn’t even know enough about what was going on to know what was possible.

First rubbed his face. “I was the worst tracker in my clutch, you know? I wasn’t even the oldest of us. I’m only First because I play well with politics.”

Raleigh felt as if she were missing a piece of the conversation, but instinct told her that pressing for explanation would be unwise. “Is there any way to negotiate with your sister?”

He snorted. “No.”

She nodded acknowledgement of his answer, and she peered up to glimpse the sky through the maze and terraces of the buildings that towered above them.

“She’s Named. We’re not,” he added. “She has every right to eliminate Third or…”

She didn’t glance at him, but she heard his voice catch.

“She’s pregnant,” he said faintly, voice thick. “My wife is pregnant, and my sister is going to murder her—and what kind of man am I, if I can’t even protect my wife and child?”

“One as human as the rest of us,” Raleigh said, because there was no good answer for the question. Holding her silence would only be interpreted as agreement.

“I wasn’t created to be human!” he snapped.

She shrugged and tapped her gills. “Neither was I.”

She looked at him, then, and he stared at her, the weird glow flickering in and out as if it were tasting the back and side of his neck.

“What’s that?” she asked, in attempt to shift the conversation topic.

He scowled but followed her gaze with his hand, ultimately touching one of the yellow spots. He grimaced. “My patch is wearing off.”

And he turned on his heel and strode back toward…somewhere.

Raleigh followed. “Your what?”

“Patch! My mods”—he waved at his neck—“never ‘took’ properly. It’s why I’m Nameless, why I suck at tracking, and why my wife and sister always had to worry about protecting me when we went after zombies. I can’t control this, and it’s like putting candy in front of a baby. They come right for me—Infested, bigots, Nameless who want my position.”

She frowned and took the time she needed to parse that. “Third can control hers.” So why was she Nameless?

First gave his head a single sharp shake. “She has a governor chip. She can’t modulate things on her own. Without it… Suffice to say that blackouts have a way of getting you killed.”

“Sure do.”

From the odd glance First gave her, he hadn’t expected her to agree.

“You aren’t the only designed killer of the pair of us. I just have tech that lets me stick the memories in storage, to keep them from affecting me all that much. I was…” On second thought, she didn’t want to pull up how she’d ended up in this somewhen. Just thinking about letting herself remember it was making her wince.

He studied her a moment, then sighed. “We could call TamLin. See if he’s found anything.”

Without a console, Third couldn’t be called, herself.

Raleigh smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

At least it was something different and might get them on a better track—maybe something that would succeed, or could succeed. Surely there had to be some way to save Second. If time were that solid, why would anyone even attempt to change the past?

He grimaced and increased his pace. Raleigh kept up easily but wondered what she was missing…and if he or any of the others would ever deign to explain it to her.