The foundation of the entire Psy way of life.

A knock on the door to Payal’s office. He ignored it, while using a minute percentage of his telekinetic power to press against the door so no one could get inside.

A bead of sweat dripped down Payal’s temple.

Kaleb closed his eyes to better focus on the repair.

Each mind that blinked out as it disappeared into the spiraling void was a person who had ceased to exist, their biofeedback link disconnected without warning.

Kaleb kept his mind calm, black ice on which nothing could stick. It was the only way to work in this type of a situation. He couldn’t think of all the people lost; he had to think of those who still had a chance of survival.

Because Sahara had asked him to save the Psy instead of condemning them to the darkness—and Kaleb kept his promises.

Chapter 30

Payal Rao: Anchor—Delhi. Actual zone is the largest in India, stretching as far as Budaun in Uttar Pradesh on her eastern border. I’m still working on figuring out her reach in the other directions, but it’s apt to be of similar significance. If she falls, it will cause a chain reaction across Asia.

—Inventory of anchors created by Canto Mercant (2082)

AS AN EMERGENCY measure, Payal took Chandika’s place, becoming the sun with her stars around her. The hub and the subs. She could only maintain the position for a short burst of time before her own region began to collapse, but this area was in a dire situation.

Chandika’s death must’ve been sudden, else she’d have contacted her neighboring hubs to set up a succession plan—though what they might have been able to do, Payal couldn’t imagine, not when their zones were already edge to edge.

She wasn’t the only neighboring hub who’d responded. Prabhyx, Shanta, and Virat—all of whom Payal knew because she made it her business to know her region—had also just appeared inside Chandika’s zone. This close, they could talk to each other as most Psy did on the PsyNet. “We need to cover this zone,” she said. “There is no replacement.”

Prabhyx had always been high-strung. Now his mind flared with panic. “That’s impossible! We’re all stretched to the max.”

Virat was more pragmatic. “We can do ten-minute sessions,” he said, “but it’ll be a twenty-four-hour rotation and it’ll wear us out, even if we pull in anchors from farther out.”

Shanta, older and more experienced, said, “Let me check the zones. There may be room for expansion from each of us. Stressful, yes, but not as bad as a rotation.”

Payal held Chandika’s zone while they waited. She’d sensed the horror of minds blinking out at a sickening rate when she first arrived, but the losses had stopped the instant she wrenched the Substrate back into shape. However, with many of Chandika’s sub-anchors having collapsed under the initial surge after her death, the strain on Payal’s mind was enormous.

Shanta returned. “Prabhyx, you have capacity in your southern quadrant. Can you see if you can reshape your zone to take a segment of the weight?”

High-strung or not, Prabhyx was an anchor and he reacted to try to save lives, save the Net. Payal felt a small amount of pressure exit her mind. “That’s good,” she said. “Shanta, who else has capacity?”

“Nobody” was the quiet answer. “You were already taking on a big chunk of Chandika’s zone and so was I. Virat’s got extra weight with Pallavi’s zone—she’s aging, too.”

All of them must’ve stretched out automatically, their brains reacting as designed. Canto, there is no cover.

Check the grid. See if there are any answers there. I’m searching to see if we can get cover from an A based in a more stable zone.

The grid was faded and crumbling. As with plants deprived of water, every part of the Net suffered when deprived of anchor energy.

Water. Energy. ENERGY.

A puzzle piece slotted into place in her mind, then another and another.

“I’ll build conduits,” she said to the others, as well as telepathically to Canto. “It’ll feed our energy into this zone.”

“That won’t last.” She could hear tears in Prabhyx’s voice. “It needs to be one of us.”

“I know.” She tempered her tone—there was no point in yelling at someone who simply couldn’t help the way they were; Prabhyx was a good anchor. That was all he had to be. She’d take care of the rest. “But it’ll give us time to try to find a solution. Canto’s currently searching for an area of the world with an extra anchor.” It’d be a hardship for that A to relocate, but such sacrifices were part of being an A.

When the Net bled, so did anchors.

Santano Enrique had once covered three zones for a heroic five minutes when twin anchors passed away within seconds of each other. He’d been a psychopath, but he’d also been an A.

“Okay, yes. Yes, that makes sense.” Prabhyx repeated that multiple times as he helped her build the conduits. One from each neighboring anchor, so that their combined energies fed the grid and made it stronger.

“It’s like a spiderweb,” Shanta said afterward, as the conduit network glowed blue and began to pump anchor energy into the region; the only things that didn’t alter in color were the intrusive brown fibers. “A web fed with our psychic blood.”

“It’s going to drain all of us.” Payal was far more concerned with the practical than the metaphysical. “Eat and drink double your usual amount. I think we can maintain this for up to a month at the absolute maximum—but only if you fuel yourselves.”

All three communicated their acceptance of the plan.

Virat said, “Thank you, Payal. When Canto reached out about this anchor union, I didn’t appreciate why he’d chosen you to represent us, but now I see. You can think even when the Net is falling around us.”

“Yes,” Shanta murmured. “But we know you can’t do magic. We’ll help you in any and every way we can. It hurts to watch the Net die.”

They separated on that simple, profound truth.

Already able to feel the energy drain, she opened her eyes on the physical plane to find herself still sitting across from Kaleb Krychek. His eyes were closed, and the dark gray of his shirt stuck to his body. He’d discarded his jacket at some point and loosened his tie.