Chelise put down her datapad stylus and took another sip of tea.

"Have you ever been through anything like the mine attack, Mr. Dyachenko?" she asked.

She sat in a cramped sitting room on the third floor of one of the oldest apartment buildings she had ever seen, right in the heart of the Foundry district. Across from her, in a threadbare reclining chair, Yuriy Dyachenko gathered his thoughts. He was a middle-aged man with kind, bright eyes and a ready laugh, though right now the subject was serious and his laugh had faded. He ran his good hand through his dark, receding hair and rubbed his tired round face. His left arm was caught in a sling. Yuriy had been very kind to agree to an interview with her. He had joked that he didn't have anything better to do, now that Hakke's unfortunate mine had temporarily halted operations for clean up from the Fallen. Chelise knew he could be resting without having to recount his harrowing experience.

She was glad that Yuriy was open to talking about the disaster. She needed first-hand accounts of what had happened that day. The more that people could hear straight from the victims themselves, the less they could brush off those stories as wild exaggerations — like spokespeople from Omolon and Suros were claiming about survivor's accounts on the news. Many of Hakke's rival foundries were very anxious about the security of their holdings outside the Walls.

Four days after the slaughter, the Tower was the only one yet to comment. Was the Vanguard's silence a refusal to admit the severity of the situation? Maybe it was a noncommittal stance: What more can we do? This is just the way of the world.

The sofa she sat on had seen better days, probably long before she had even been born. The carpet was worn in a track to the apartment door. The tiny vidscreen in the corner of the room looked to be even older than the sofa. Her heart squeezed. Yuriy had so little to call his own to begin with. Now that he was out of work, what would he do to get by? She felt bad just for taking his offered tea. It was a fine blend, something to be brought out for honored guests.

Twenty minutes ago, when she had started this interview, she hadn't expected to gain much information from a stranger. As far as Yuriy knew, she was conducting a student project for one of her classes. That wasn't technically a lie — she was starting to consider publishing her interview results in an academic paper — but she hadn't really thought he would be so amenable to a nosy student, let alone a nosy individual with a personal mission outside the College, so she had come up with the cover story. To her delight, he had been incredibly accommodating so far, bemused and maybe even gratified by her interest. Not bad for a cold contact. Two days ago she had posted fliers on utility poles and building corners throughout the Foundry district looking for interview subjects. Yuriy so far was the only one to call.

"No," Yuriy answered her question. "I have gone this long in life without ever encountering the Fallen, thank the Light." He touched the Truth pearl around his neck. "Some of these guys at the mine, this is their second or third time, though never before at Hakke. They used to work caravans or were refugees outside the Walls. Marija, this is the fifth time she's been through something like this. That woman is probably thinking she's the unluckiest person on this planet. I'd say she's the luckiest. Surviving five ambushes? I don't know how I made it out of just this one. Not everyone did."

Chelise nodded, chilled by imaginings of Fallen at her back. She had never seen one outside of pictures.

"Was anyone expecting something like this to happen?"

Yuriy shook his head sadly. "Yes and no. We always expect an attack. It's part of our training, you see. We're taught to look for ships on the horizon and to notice Dreg scouts. I don't know that it does any good. Those Fallen are sneaky bastards — er, pardon my language!"

Chelise grinned. It was all right with her if he called those monsters what they were.

"We're always on the lookout," Yuriy continued. "In the back of our minds, we know that there is always the possibility. But this mine…well, Hakke had a good record. I guess maybe we all got a little complacent thinking that the Fallen weren't interested."

"I've heard that there were several reports of Fallen in the area in the weeks leading up to the attack," Chelise said. "Is that true?"

Yuriy nodded. "Yes. I know one of the workers who made a report. She's a site overseer, one of the best. She told me about it after she made a statement to her supervisors. Said she couldn't be sure that she had seen a pike in the distance. Said that it was probably just her being paranoid. But she reported it anyways."

"Did her supervisors take the report seriously?"

"I suppose so," Yuriy sighed. "We're all a bit tired of paperwork and having to drop everything to take a good look around whenever there's a scare. I do remember our security team surveying the boundaries. If they did anything else, I don't know about it."

"Is it true the Vanguard dispatched a team of Guardians to the mine just days before the attack?"

Yuriy scratched his stubbly beard, frowning.

"There were representatives from the Tower on site, but they were not Guardians," he said.

Chelise took note on her datapad. The news had already said as much, though there had been a few confused reports of Guardian intervention. Probably from those mistaking cleanup efforts by Lord Shaxx's Redjacks for an inspection party, twisted through the rumor mill. Still worth looking into, in her opinion.

"As I recall, they were civilians," Yuriy said. "Maybe from one of the Factions? I did not see them personally. They were there for a routine tour of the facility."

"Do you think they were touring as a result of the increased Fallen sightings?" Chelise asked.

"I don't know."

"Do you know if mine operations were able to corroborate Fallen sightings with the Tower that could have pointed to a possible attack ?"

"I couldn't say." Yuriy shrugged awkwardly with his unbound shoulder. "Our head of operations does have some contacts at the Tower. Now, whether those contacts include Commander Zavala himself is anybody's guess. They wouldn't tell someone like me." He grinned ruefully. "I just go into the tunnels and make sure the rock is blasted away."

"So you don't know if the Tower was notified of the overseer's reports?" she pressed.

"I don't." He smiled apologetically.

"I see." Chelise frowned and absently chewed a strand of hair, looking through her notes on her datapad. The little clock in the upper corner let her know that she had maybe fifteen minutes before she needed to get going back to the College. She had hoped to be able to get a definitive answer about any Tower involvement — or lack thereof — through her interview. So far, she had been unsuccessful. Yuriy was a longtime employee, but mid level in the company's organization, not privy to much information except through wide networks of hearsay. That hearsay could be interesting, but she needed the truth. However unpleasant it might turn out to be. Perhaps the letter she'd sent to the Hakke corporate offices would be answered. She wasn't going to pin too many hopes on that, though. It was delicate work trying to extract answers from the foundry about the Tower when they were tied so closely together. Surely nobody wanted to be the one to say something that could get Hakke out of the Tower's good graces. The loss of contract would be devastating.

Chelise considered her next question for a moment. Yuriy had been very forthcoming and pleasant through the entire interview, even sheepish when he sensed he couldn't answer something to her liking. He was already upset by his experience. Too many tough questions were not going to make him feel better.

"Mr. Dyachenko, do you think Guardians should have been posted to the mines once these reports started happening?"

Yuriy thought for a moment, glancing out the tiny kitchen window to his right. The glass was old and rippled, settling in its pane. Pale, lace curtains caused the afternoon light to glow thick gold through the yellowed fabric, lending a tiny bit of cheer to the dingy apartment. The view out the window was of the old brick wall of the building just next door. The apartment complexes sat so close together she could have touched the outside wall if she leaned over the windowsill.

"It would have been nice," Yuriy said finally. "I could never complain about a Guardian watching over us."

"Why do you think none were sent to watch?" she asked.

"I suppose either because the threat wasn't deemed credible or no report reached the Vanguard," Yuriy answered. He scratched his beard and shrugged again.

"Do you think Guardians should be posted at the mines from now on?"

"If such a thing is possible, that would be wonderful." Yuriy seemed amused by this line of questioning. She knew it sounded like wishful thinking.

"Do you believe it is possible?"

Yuriy hesitated.

"Well…I don't know. I have always heard that there are so few Guardians and so many places they need to be. Maybe they can't be spared to watch mines."

"Why is it that people of the City seem to know so little about the Tower's operations?" Chelise asked.

"It has always been a place apart." Yuriy's demeanor remained open and pleasant, but his eyes looked troubled now as he struggled to find the words to explain. He glanced at the Truth pearl around her neck. He had to be wondering why a fellow of the Light's Truth would be asking such questions.

"The Guardians have long looked to matters that people of the City would not necessarily understand," Yuriy said. "They travel the planets of the Inner System as easily as if it were still the Golden Age. I hear they encounter things out there that can't be believed. I don't know how many of those things are bedtime stories our parents told us to frighten us into obedience. But I do know that the crack on Luna's face is real. I saw it myself a long time ago. I looked at it through the telescope in the College observatory. Whether the Darkness is hiding there like the Vanguard says, well, I can't verify that with my own eyes. But I have no reason not to believe it."

"Why is that?" she asked quietly.

Yuriy was truly taken aback for the first time.

"Why would the Tower post edicts banning travel to the moon? It was only Guardians going there in the first place. Civilians had no interest. There must be something dangerous there that they want to protect us from."

"What about the dangers at home?" she asked. "There is a ban from things unknown on Luna, yet we know for a fact there are Fallen here on Earth. Do you think that the Fallen are less of a priority for the Tower than whatever is supposedly hiding on Luna?"

"I am the wrong person to ask," Yuriy chuckled. "I am a miner, not a Guardian. Of course I think the Fallen are a threat. Still, we have dealt with them for hundreds of years. Perhaps the Tower feels we are capable of handling them on our own."

"Are we capable?"

"We could be," Yuriy sighed. "With the right preparation. There have been successful defenses from bands of civilians in the past. This time, we were caught unaware." His eyes were sad again.

"Are the Guardians capable of protecting us? Or do you think we need to stop relying so heavily on the Tower?"

"Of course they are capable!" Yuriy laughed in astonishment. He probably thought she was an absolute idiot at this point. A small price to pay for answers. "I set eyes on a Titan a couple of weeks ago at the North Gate. One look at her and I knew why they are called the Living Wall! The Fallen must be mad to take them on! I would not dare to even ask her for directions!" He chuckled again and saw that Chelise was still waiting. "As for relying on the Tower, I can't imagine the City without it. The Tower isn't just the home of the Guardians. It's a symbol."

"A symbol of what?"

"Of hope," Yuriy answered. His dark eyes filled with quiet pride. "Hope that we can stay alive. Hope that we can work together instead of dying off lonely and afraid, scattered across the globe. Hope that young people like you will bring back the Golden Age."

For a moment, Chelise thought about ending the interview right then and there. This man was not a Tower zealot, but he obviously didn't see anything wrong with their activities. If she kept up this line of questioning, would she be telling the man how to feel? Would he start to suspect her motives? The news had picked up the reports of a Trinary cultist on campus. What if Yuriy thought she was a sympathizer?

She smiled to hide her frustration. Was she really the only one who took issue with the Tower's cold-shoulder treatment of the City? Were her friends right to say that she was just looking for trouble?

"We're almost finished, Mr. Dyachenko," she said. "You've been very helpful. I just have a few more questions, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead." Yuriy shifted in his chair, resting his mug of tea on his knee.

"Because of the attack on the mine and the subsequent cleanup operation, it's expected that resources will have to be pulled from other areas in order to keep the Tower supplied. Possibly this will mean layoffs for Hakke employees, as well as inconveniences and delays for those leaving from the Gates. Do you think that is fair?"

"It will have to be done, whether I think it is fair or not," Yuriy replied. He sounded resigned and calm.

"Suppose more attacks happen, and this time it is the farms that are targeted. What should civilians be expected to do? Should we go so far as to ration our food in order to feed the Tower?" The news had been going berserk over the possibility of more attacks. Pundits gleefully spun out worse-case scenarios with a feverish gleam in their eyes.

"That was the case for Twilight Gap," Yuriy grunted, his eyes distant with memory. He chewed on a thumbnail and glanced out the window again. "I was only a small boy at the time, but I remember the lines for food. I would hope it would not come to that again."

"But if it should, is that fair?"

He sighed heavily. The energy seemed to drain out of him.

"No, it's not fair for the hungry. There were a lot of children during the Gap who did not understand and cried bitterly at night from empty bellies. I remember people who collapsed with exhaustion trying to afford what little rations they could find. I remember great piles of donations for the Tower, everything from food to weapons. Times were very, very hard." He was silent a moment, lost in thought. "And yet, what does all that matter if the Guardians fail and the Fallen breach the Walls? Those same hungry people will die for certain. The Fallen will murder them without a thought. They'll take their bodies for experiments or put them on display on their skiffs. I think it is better we keep the Tower whole and strong however we can, despite hardship. They are our only true defense."

"But you said earlier that with preparation we might resist the Fallen ourselves." Chelise said.

Yuriy frowned. "To a point. Small pockets of them, perhaps. A full-scale assault like Twilight Gap? No, no. We would be finished without the Guardians."

"And there's nothing we can do to change that?" she asked. The question just popped out of her mouth. Was she crazy? He was going to think she was Trinary for sure!

Yuriy's eyes twinkled, appraising her question. He didn't look upset. Yet.

"Perhaps the Ghosts could turn our City security into Guardians?" Yuriy mused. It was a thin joke. They both knew the living had no such luck. "Realistically, what can be done?" he sighed. "I suppose we could mass in numbers and train ourselves to fight like the armies of the Golden Age. We could all go to war with the Guardians. Maybe that would help a little. But the thought of leaving our City and its proud culture to become a whole people that only know fighting…well, that makes me sad."

"It's better to let the Guardians do the fighting? So that we might be free to live our lives?"

"That does sound selfish, doesn't it?" Yuriy looked a little embarrassed. "However, that is what the Guardians are for, isn't that so? The Ghosts find those who have already died, so they can fight without fear. Free from their old lives, they have no ties to the present except the safety of the City."

Chelise had often considered that herself. Nobody had ever claimed a direct, close relative as a Guardian. The Light Blessed were freed from the troubles of providing for families or taking up the mantles of their previous jobs or responsibilities. They were even exempt from the threat of disease or hunger. There wasn't much to fear when a Ghost could bring you back. The Light had remade them to be unshakable protectors. In turn, they could give their all to that protection without being afraid of leaving any loved ones behind again.

"If the Guardians asked it of you, would you fight?" The question wasn't really relevant to her concerns, but Chelise suddenly needed to know.

"Yes." Yuriy nodded emphatically. His voice was hard and quiet. "Yes, I would."

"Even with your ties?"

"Even with my ties. The Guardians represent the Light. The Light is always worth fighting for." His expression was so solemn that she nodded. Faced with such conviction, she would be coldhearted indeed not to agree — not to mention she would solidify herself as some kind of heretic! She exited her note program and flipped the datapad cover closed.

"Thank you, Mr. Dyachenko. That's everything I needed."

Yuriy's smile returned, as warm as ever.

"You are most welcome. I am glad to help a student of the College. Besides, it's good to have some company during the day. Poor Ruslan is working extra shifts now that I am holding down this chair." He gestured sadly at his bound-up arm. "I thought the silence and free time would be refreshing, but it's just boring!"

"Ruslan?" she asked.

"Ah. Ruslan is my son." He gave her a pocket-sized frame off of his chairside table. "He works in the western provinces, at the Harkness farm. He was supposed to take a short leave before the attack happened. Once he learned I was injured and that mine operations were suspended, he said he would keep on and take his vacation later. I think he's worried I won't be able to get by. He worries too much."

Chelise smiled, remembering her own concern. The young man grinning in the photograph looked to be about her age. He had Yuriy's eyes and his dark wavy hair, with a longer, narrower face.

"The Light send you a quick recovery nonethless," she said, handing the picture back to Yuriy. She stood and gathered up her bag and coat. Yuriy went ahead of her to the door to see her out. It was hardly necessary. It practically opened onto their laps.

"Thank you again," she said, stepping out into the musty hallway. Any lights the corridor once had seemed to have burnt out long ago. "Would it be all right to contact you if I have more questions?" She wasn't sure how he could help her from here on out, but it was worth keeping this connection open.

"Of course!"

"Here's my interlink address, in case there's anything you'd like to ask," she said, scribbling her information on a scrap of paper against the wall. Yuriy took it, amused again.

"It was a curious interview. I haven't had to think so hard in quite a while! You said you are doing a research project for the College?"

Chelise shouldered her bag. "Yes. I am examining the Tower's history from the viewpoints of the City," she lied.

"That is very interesting. Is this for a particular class?"

"Sort of. It's an independent study project." At least that was the truth.

"Ah. You have far more drive than I did when I was a student!" Yuriy chuckled. "Well, I wish you luck!"

"Thank you, Mr. Dyachenko."

They said their goodbyes and he shut the door. Chelise played with the chain to her necklace, turning the pearl over in her fingers as she descended the hall stairs. She was used to visiting poorer sectors of the district on account of being friends with Kemal, but even Kemal's house had been a little nicer than this. It wasn't fair that someone like Yuriy did such important work for the Tower and couldn't afford a better place to live. And now he couldn't work at all. She felt a twinge of regret. She hadn't even asked him how he planned to move forward. He hoped he didn't think her insensitive. Blessed Light, she hoped he didn't think her completely crazy! Some of the things she had said…she was lucky he hadn't thrown her out! Lei-5 would certainly not approve of her questions. Neither would Kemal.

Kemal…she hadn't spoken to him since leaving The Acorn a night ago. She knew she had upset him. Blair and Inacio and Tamara had been listening to her concerns about the mine attack all week, but poor Kemal had been really caught off guard. But even before he went to the Tower he would have shied away from these concerns, only answering her questions with the catechisms. Now that he worked there, he seemed to find reinforcement of their long-held beliefs.

And why not? Did she really suspect wrongdoing? Complacency? This was the Tower, for the love of the Light! The monument to the Light Blessed, the children of the Traveler! Who was she to question what they did and how they did it?

No matter how many times she told herself these things, her doubts would not go away. All she had to do was remember the bloodied faces, the haunted eyes of the people filing into the East Gate while she had stood there, shocked and helpless in the midst of a crowd of curious shoppers at the bazaar. She had only been at the Gate to look at the market's offerings, bored and restless from a long semester and the first sunny day in a stretch of gloomy skies. She hadn't expected to see anything like that, with the ambulances wailing up the road and the news crews pouncing on the frightened workers for details. She hadn't expected to be so shaken up. Where are the Guardians? someone had asked. That innocent question had rolled through her mind ever since.

Where are the Guardians?

The asker had only meant to speak to fears of a follow-up attack. They couldn't know they had sparked a hint of anger in her heart. They couldn't know that the question had made her start to tremble in a sudden despairing panic, a helpless claustrophobia. Was the City so very vulnerable? Would they always be waiting for the Light Blessed to come and save them?

Wasn't it already too late to be saved if they were cowering behind these Walls?

The Tower had stood for centuries now. The City still waited at its feet for guidance, for it to tell them that everything was going to all right. As a girl, she had always felt safe at night, thinking about the Tower and imagining the Guardians within. Now it felt so very far away, cold and remote. She had realized on that day at the Gate that no such proclamation of safety had ever issued from it.

Trust in the Light, the catechisms reminded them all.

The dead mine workers had trusted the Light. And The Tower, the Light's Trust, was silent. What did it mean, if the Guardians could offer no rationale nor comfort for their misery? Was there none to give?

Her gloomy thoughts chased her into the street. She took deep breaths of the cold air, warming herself in the weak sun peeking between low clouds. Yuriy's apartment had not been well heated. She looked around at the solid, plain buildings around her, at the distant span of the Wall on the horizon, trying to quiet her fears with the familiar and mundane. After a while she began her long commute back to the College. First she would need to catch the bus back to the train station. If she dawdled too long and missed the connection, she would have a long wait in the cold.

Yuriy had been so patient and helpful, but it wasn't enough. She knew that there was only one person who could give her the inside information she needed about the Tower. Maybe Kemal could forgive her for that night at the bar. Maybe he would be willing to talk if she just explained how she felt.

No, she couldn't do that. He would only try to cheer her up and insist she go speak to the Flame. Her eyes were open now. She would not apologize, cringing behind the excuse of shaken faith — which was surely what Kemal thought was going on. She did not need to have a reason to ask perfectly reasonable questions, even if they were about the Light Blessed. If she spoke to Kemal, she would just have to be careful how she framed her questions. If she could keep things light and friendly, then maybe he wouldn't get so defensive.

At the bus shelter, she wrote out a message to Kemal on her datapad. An invitation to catch up again, just like they used to meet over coffee after weekly service at the College Flame. Likely, Kemal's busy schedule meant that they could not speak in person any time soon, but she would take a vidchat over nothing. Hopefully, Kemal would agree.