Escorting the liberated population to Vector was more time-consuming than Nik had foreseen. People crammed into every conceivable space, and new tunnels had to be excavated to accommodate the influx. Many of the current inhabitants opened their living quarters to the people arriving.

  As soon as Kit set foot in Vector, she focused on establishing a link with Frontier. She approached Valentine, asking for a high-powered radio and several wire spools. Before long, Nik found himself assisting Kit above Vector's surface, where she busied herself with setting up a peculiar wireline arrangement.

  "We'll need to position these antennas in multiple directions, depending on which Frontier substation is active," she explained while driving a stake into the ground.

  "How far away are the substations?" Nik asked.

  "Anywhere from one to eight thousand miles," Kit shrugged.

  Nik raised an eyebrow. "How the heck are you going to get a radio signal to reach that far?" He cast a skeptical look at the tiny box they brought up. To his knowledge, even the most powerful antennas wouldn’t reach that far.

  "Eh," Kit shrugged. "It pays to know a bit about ham radio." She began to carefully measure the height of the stake.

  "How are you not tracked?" Nik asked. He was always paranoid about radio signals. They couldn't read the messages he sent, but that didn't mean enemies couldn't triangulate their point of origin.

  "The freqs are too low," Kit said. "Nowadays, everyone relies on big tower relays or satellite antennas to broadcast over distance. They get used to using higher frequencies. The airwaves we use are untouched for the most part."

  When Kit was satisfied with her work, she taped a plastic loop to the stake and fed the wire through. Nik helped her repeat this process for a couple hours. She measured, and Nik hammered.

  Eventually, they were standing in the middle of a large X-like pattern. When Kit finished fiddling with the wire connections, she let out a satisfied sigh.

  "Okay, now we wait," she declared. Kit crunched through the snow to the large pack they used to bring up the radio equipment.

  She drew out two thermoses from within its depths, offering one to Nik. A comforting aroma of broth wafted out as he unscrewed the lid.

  "Mmmm," he savored. One sip made the chill from their hours in the cold recede.

  "Here." Kit produced a pair of fold-up camping stools. Nik opened his and squashed the chair's legs into the snow. The two sat silently for the next few minutes while enjoying their soup.

  "We found where the conduit led," Nik announced. Kit didn't respond. "It was a satellite facility. Or at least we think it used to be. Everything had been annihilated."

  "Typical," Kit mumbled.

  "The interesting thing was that we found bodies with the same uniforms as the guards at the prison camp," Nik continued. "Either it was attacked by another opposing force, or someone really didn't want us to find anything."

  "The Nexus," Kit whispered.

  "The Nexus," Nik repeated quietly.

  "I'm not sorry about killing Maks, but I regret not waiting long enough to learn more about the Nexus," she said, turning her head away slightly. NIk couldn't exactly blame her. He had been in the tunnels just like her and wanted to kill Maks himself.

  "It's fine," he said. "I doubt he would have told us anything important." They continued sipping their thermoses in silence for another minute.

  "How did you end up in the mines?" Kit asked out of the blue. "I figured you'd be off in some distant land, building world peace or something."

  Nik chuckled. "Well, Valentine and I were certainly trying." His smile turned sour as he thought back to the nuclear attack.

  Nik recounted how he and Edy had managed to escape, their desperate journey down the river, and their discovery of the powerlines and the camp. When he mentioned the water interrogation room, Kit’s nostrils flared.

  "Maks put me through the water channel too," she said.

  "Why did he put you in the channel?" Nik asked.

  "It was probably the circumstances of my capture," she said casually.

  "Well," Nik paused to take a sip from his thermos. "I guess this is a good segue into your story." He turned to Kit.

  She stared at the metal container in her hands. "Where to start," she mused. "I suppose the Trinity Attack would be a good place. I was stationed in the former demilitarized zone. I was the garrison commander and envoy for the ROK Army."

  "So Korea." Nik took a draught from the thermos.

  "Well, former Korea," Kit added. "Eventually, after foreign relations collapsed, I was left with a hard decision. Either we stay and defend Korea to the last," she paused. Nik could see the words were bitter in her mouth.

  "Or?" he gently continued.

  "Or save as many lives as I could," Kit sighed. She stared out toward the icy water inlet in the distance. "I decided on the latter."

  She took another sip. "So, I took what forces I had left, and we hucked it through the backroads of Eastern Asia. Fast forward through a few months of living like fugitives, and we found ourselves somewhere in the southeast peninsula. I don't really know where. I just remember meeting up with a town of people hidden in the jungle."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "That must have been a hard journey." Nik could only imagine what problems they would have encountered along the way.

  "It was, but the people in the village were kind. They also had their own militia, who were just as inexperienced as Vector’s forces. We proposed a trade-off - our seasoned military expertise for a safe haven to settle. They accepted."

  "Frontier," Nik said.

  "Frontier," Kit echoed. "It didn't last long. We had to evacuate everyone when we found out our village location was compromised. The rest of the Frontier cluster wanted to help, maybe even fight back, but it happened too fast."

  "I know the feeling," Nik said.

  "Yeah, the good news is that we all escaped. We had to split up and rethink how we would stay connected." She looked at Nik quickly. "They detested STMs. High Command held them responsible for the Trinity Attack. No offense, it's just their viewpoint," she said with a shrug.

  Nik's face tightened in a frown. "They're right," he sighed. "Really. If I had never built that damn machine, none of this would have happened."

  "Who knows," Kit said after another sip from her thermos. "They eventually conceded, permitting one STM per site. The only site allowed to have more was High Command itself. The only catch is that they remained mostly offline except for emergencies."

  "Do you think they'll allow them to switch on for us?" Nik asked.

  "Maybe." Kit shrugged. "We'll know once we hear back from one of the world relays. I sent out a request about fifteen minutes ago." She looked toward the sky.

  "So what happened next?" Nik asked.

  "Next?” Kit said, remembering her story. “Next, my battalion was ambushed while trying to find a new site. Drone swarm." Kit's face went dark.

  "The drones hunted us down for days while we fled. Every night, they picked us off one by one while we tried to hide and rest."

  "That sounds awful." Nik didn't want to imagine the horror of peering into the darkness and not knowing whether death was staring back at him.

  "It was,” said Kit. “The good news is that I was able to have most of my men escape. I led a diversion team while the rest slipped through an ancient tunnel network we found from the old Vietnam War era."

  "How did you find one of those?"

  "By luck mostly," Kit shrugged. "We couldn't risk them glassing the area with another nuke if they thought we were hiding, so I took my best platoon, ran like hell, and shot up a flare so they could follow."

  "What happened next?" Nik had forgotten about the container in his hands.

  "They caught us." Kit's voice was flat, but her eyes burned with the memory. "Drones surrounded us, pinning us down until hostile reinforcements arrived. By then, we had expended our munitions, and many of our men fell, fighting with nothing more than bayonets," Kit's voice wavered. "They rounded us up and herded us like cattle to a campsite and crammed us into STMs. Next thing I knew, I was being yanked into the comms room at our beloved mining facility. The Warden saw the rank on my chest, so he chucked me into the channel."

  "Why, though?" Nik asked.

  "Because he was desperate for the whereabouts of my men." Kit gave a wry chuckle. "He nearly drowned me before realizing I was as clueless as him. Actually, that thought has haunted me since my capture."

  "Where the rest of them are?" Nik asked.

  Kit nodded. "I just wish I knew whether or not they made it to safety," she finished, her voice a whisper. Nik felt his chest tighten.

  "I understand," he said. "Before the Trinity Attack, I had become estranged from one of my best friends. He was also my partner in the STM project."

  "You don't mean?" Kit began.

  "Yeah, Dr. Ariel Sai. We called him Ari for short. I've never known whether or not he survived the Trinity attack, and if he did, I never found him in the chaos."

  "One day, we'll know," Kit reassured. "One day, we'll find our lost ones." She held up her thermos to Nik.

  "To finding friends. Cheers," Nik clinked his thermos against hers. He was about to take a sip when Kit jumped to her feet.

  "What is it?" Nik asked in alarm.

  "We're getting a reply!" Kit said, excitedly.

  ***Kit***

  The concept of home... It was a thought that hadn't crossed Kit's mind in years. Following her flight from Korea, she received the grim news that her homeland had been transformed into a desolate wasteland.

  From that moment, she found herself feeling like an orphan. Not just any orphan, but one burdened with the responsibility of leading a battalion of fellow orphans.

  Regrettably, Kit's past intruded on her present with an unyielding force, making sleep the primary casualty. Oddly enough, sleep had been less elusive during her laborious days in that vile camp. The grim reality of her waking life then had overshadowed the horrors of her past, pushing sleep into an unwelcome retreat.

  Now, her waking hours were flooded with immediate concerns, leaving little room to dwell on bygone days. Yet, this frantic hustle of the present provided no sanctuary. The haunting nightmares that marked her tormented nights remained, unscathed and relentless.

  "Hey, you're Kita, aren't you?" a friendly voice cut through the dark. Kit had been wandering the Vector reconnaissance floor and found herself staring at a hologram map of the world. She wheeled around to see a dark-haired woman in khaki shorts approaching.

  "Kit, and yeah," she replied, a defensive edge to her voice. "Who are you?" She instantly regretted her harsh tone.

  Survival had become a staple of her life, and it was frustrating that she couldn't even have a decent conversation without being on the defense anymore. Kit frowned.

  The dark-haired woman didn't seem to mind Kit's tone, though. She approached the world map and pressed a few buttons.

  "Erica," she introduced warmly. "I've played with this map a little but haven't got the hang of it yet." The map spun towards the Indonesian archipelago. "That's your home, isn't it? Frontier? Are you excited to be going back?"

  "No, I don't really have a home anymore." The feeling of disconnect rewashed over Kit.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

  Kit could tell Erica was trying to soothe her. She wondered how many people Erica had encountered who were orphans like her. Probably a lot.

  As if reading Kit’s mind, Erica suddenly spoke again. "To be fair, no one around here really has a home anymore." She tapped a couple buttons, and the map spun around to the Scandinavian peninsula. "This used to be my home, but it's not safe to return anymore. Some places were completely destroyed, while others were taken from us." She turned around and leaned against the map console. "That's why this place exists." Erica nodded to the rising causeways of Vector.

  Kit retreated into silence. Erica's words held a note of truth. The world had shifted, its axis tilting to a new normal. Orphanhood was no longer an exception but a tragic rule of life. This new rule forced many ideas to adapt or perish. The concept of home was one such sentiment forced to evolve in the face of this cruel reality.

  "One day, we'll all find our home again, and I don't mean where we lived or grew up." Erica smiled warmly.

  Kit felt the tightness in her chest relax. "Yeah," she muttered. “Maybe we will."

  Kit looked back at the map. She would be visiting Frontier soon. She had been worrying about how she would be received, but suddenly that didn't seem as important anymore.

  "There you go, that's much better," Erica nodded. "You finally look a little more relaxed."

  Kit snorted.

  Frontier had been a home to her, but now she was wondering where her home was. If home was where the heart was, what about those forced to get rid of their heart to survive?

  "I was just thinking," Kit piped up, surprising herself.

  "About?" Erica asked.

  "About where home could be," Kit continued. "I decided I want to live somewhere a little colder."

  "What? Why?" Erica raised an eyebrow. "You don't like sun, sand, and waves?" Kit smiled and shook her head.

  "I didn't say no sun or waves. I just hate the sweltering humidity." She began exploring the map. "I've had my fill of sweltering, bug-infested nights in the jungle."

  "I hate bugs," Erica cringed. Kit's smile grew.