From the parking lot of Shae's apartment building on Staten Island, it was possible to see the cloud of smoke still emanating from the ruins of the World Trade Center as Dave and Shae said good-bye to Emily the next morning. He could hardly stand to look that direction, much less at the smoke cloud, and worried about how he was going to feel about getting closer later in the day.

It had been very good to see Emily again; she, Dave, and Shae stayed up until late, talking about the old days in Bradford, about friends, and what had happened to them. Dave felt it was a shame that Emily had to be heading back; it would have been fun to have her around longer, to get to know her a little more. Even more than Shae and Eve, she was a connection to the old days, when things were simpler, great things seemed possible, and life had much promise. Maybe someday, he thought, when things had settled down a little, he could go back to Bradford for a few days and try to catch up on some of those people they had talked about the night before.

It was with trepidation that he went back upstairs to change his clothes. He really didn't think he was ready to deal with Manhattan yet, but there were issues there to be confronted sooner or later, including checking with the police and seeing if he could get into the Battery Park Village apartment. At least today, he could have Shae with him for those chores, to lend him strength and support in case he felt he couldn't manage it himself.

It felt strange to be putting on his suit. For the last two days, he'd just been wearing the sweats Eve had bought for him at K-Mart, but Shae had thoughtfully had the suit run through the neighborhood dry cleaners without telling him about it. Even wearing the suit reminded him of Tuesday, and it was made more ironic by the realization it was the only thing he owned that he actually had access to. Depending on how the apartment had survived -- and there was no telling -- it might well be the only physical thing he owned in the world.

Then there was no putting it off any longer. Normally when Shae went into the network offices, in the same general area where Dave was heading, she'd take the ferry. However, the ferry docks were closed due to the damage, so she decided to use the same tactics she and Eve had used Tuesday night -- go to the studio in Brooklyn and take the subway from there.

Both Dave and Shae knew better than to drive, since even at the best of times, driving was a pain in the neck, and parking was a nightmare. Having lived on Manhattan since just months out of high school, Dave had never owned a car -- he and Julie had rented one on the rare occasions it had been needed. He was not a confident driver in heavy traffic and was perfectly willing to let Shae do it.

While the subway service in lower Manhattan was still reportedly spotty, getting to midtown from the studio was not an issue. Still, the drive across the Narrows Bridge meant a clear if distant view of lower Manhattan, an even more chilling sight for him. Fortunately, once into Brooklyn, it couldn't be seen.

After some discussion, they'd decided Dave should do the meeting at Rob's apartment first, before they headed to lower Manhattan -- mostly because he had no idea of how much he might be shaken if they went to the damaged area first. At the station nearest to Rob's they split up, with the agreement they'd meet at the network later.

Rob's apartment was crowded, even though far from the full staff was there. There were many more people than chairs, so people stood here and there, sat on the floor, or whatever. Perhaps eight or ten people were there from editorial; only he and Michelle were there from the SF department, which was actually the biggest single editorial department. Melissa Schaedler, another editor, had been missing when Dave had called on Wednesday, but had turned up uninjured not long afterward; she'd volunteered as a helper at an evacuation shelter and had just been too busy to think to call in. There were people from accounting, sales, shipping, and so on, mostly management level but a few other key players, as well. There were several people absent who Dave thought might have been there, but a quiet question revealed most were still pretty beat up or in the hospital. It had been a very near thing in the office when the World Trade Center went down, and it was just luck that no one in the office had been killed.

Ronna Goldberg was there, looking shaken and white; the two of them shared a hug and condolences over their mutual losses. With Ronna present, Dave suspected the real reason they'd been invited was to give them a show of support from management and staff, and that was what happened; everyone was supportive and offered condolences to them.

To a great extent, Dave's co-workers were the closest friends he had in the city. It was good to see them again, good to feel their concern -- but somehow, in some disquieting way, their friendship seemed a little more pro forma than the genuine warmth he had received from his old Bradford classmates, Shae, Eve, and Emily the last couple days.

"We'll keep this brief and try to avoid getting tied up in petty issues," Rob told the group as people settled down. "I know not everyone is up to speed, but here's the situation. We can forget about the old offices. They have structural engineers surveying it to make up their minds whether it can be saved or whether it'll have to be dropped. If it's the latter, we may be able to get in and recover important materials, and we may not. Even if we are allowed in, it probably won't be soon, and anything we can save will have to be carried down the stairs by hand since we probably won't have elevators, and probably no power, either. That's fine, fixtures like desks would be covered by insurance. Computers, though, that's a different story. Maxine, you have your hand up?"

"We don't need the computers from up there," the accounting department manager said. "From what little I saw, they probably took a beating anyway. As far as I can tell, everything's available from the backup site, except for the business we did Tuesday morning. We didn't get much done then. There might be a few key hard drives it would be worthwhile to recover if possible, but we wouldn't need the whole computer."

"True," Rob agreed. "From what we've talked around, there's paper files that would be inconvenient to lose, but we can make do without. Given the fact that we have the backup files, I'm thinking we might as well plan on not having anything from the old office. If we should be able to get something at some point in the future, it might be useful, but I don't think we'd better depend on it."

"I know a few things from my desk I wouldn't mind having," Melissa agreed. "But nothing worth climbing thirty-four flights of stairs to get, especially in a building where there's a danger of it collapsing." There was a general murmur of agreement around the room.

"OK," Rob said after a moment. "I guess that's pretty much agreed, we're not even going to concern ourselves with that issue. Now, that leaves the big problem, which is, where do we go? Office space downtown was at a premium even before this, and we're not the only ones in this bind. What little is vacant is going fast. Bluntly, we haven't found anything as big as we had, whether we could afford it or not, and there's bigger outfits trying for the same space."

There were some murmurs and some pained expressions around the room.

"It's not totally hopeless," Rob continued. "There are some options. One of them is to find a place out in the suburbs somewhere. We've got some leads on that. Although I'd rather be downtown, do we absolutely have to be?"

"We really need to maintain an editorial presence downtown," Dick Steward, the editor in chief, said. "We have too many people we have to meet with who have offices downtown, agents and reps and others. If we're out in the suburbs, we're going to lose business because we're out of the information loop."

"That's pretty much my thought," Rob agreed. "Being plugged into the gossip has brought us a lot over the years. It wouldn't be a big deal to keep a small editorial office downtown and move the business functions elsewhere. I hate to split us up; it's going to cause problems. But, we could struggle through for the short term. Now, there are a couple possibilities with that. We have enough space out at the warehouse; it wouldn't be prime space, but we could sort of camp out there for a while. But no one I've mentioned that solution to is real crazy about it."

Dave joined a crowd of other people shaking their heads. In the years he'd worked for Dunlap and Fyre, he'd only been out to the warehouse twice. It was in the South Bronx, and not even the nicest part of that. It was located there because of the company getting a big neighborhood redevelopment grant out of it, but it still was a crappy and dangerous place.

"Yeah, that's about what I figured," Rob agreed. "The next possibility is downtown, the Ford building. I've got a friend who's CEO of an insurance company there. He feels the space they have is way underutilized. He says he can squeeze things together and sublet us a fair amount of space. I was up there this morning. The location isn't ideal, but could be a whole lot worse. The thing of it is it's not going to be big enough. We could get the business functions in there, no problem, and there would be some room for a core editorial staff office. Or, we could move all of editorial in there, and move business somewhere else."

"That beats the hell out of the warehouse," Steward nodded. "But I'd really like to have everyone close together, at least from my viewpoint. I have to do enough with the business side that it would be cumbersome, otherwise."

"Unfortunately there's just not enough space," Rob pointed out. "And worse, we're going to have to jump on this quick or we lose it, so we really can't stare at our navels on this one."

"I've got an idea," Michelle said. "What if we go with your first option, business staff and a small editorial office?"

"Where would you put the rest of editorial?" Steward asked.

"At home," she smiled. "When you get down to the book-editor level, ninety percent of what they do could be done at home; there's no need for them to take up office space. That's especially true now that virtually all our manuscripts come in and are handled digitally these days. The remaining ten percent, well, we could teleconference, or come into the office for a few hours if needed, or something. It's the perfect setup for a virtual office."

"Might have some merit," Rob said thoughtfully. "Dave, you'd be one of the people affected. What's your take on it?"

"Just on first thoughts, I have mixed feelings," Dave said slowly. "On the one hand, it would simplify a lot of issues, and there's no reason why it wouldn't work. Speaking strictly for myself, I have child care issues it would go a long way toward solving. But I would hate to be out of the information flow of the office, the gossip, the feeling of working together, or being able to bounce ideas casually off colleagues."

"That's why you wouldn't be at home all the time," Melissa pointed out. "Maybe one day a week in the office; we'd have to work out some sort of a shared work station arrangement, but it shouldn't be too bad."

"Yeah, that would take the sting out a little," Dave agreed. "At least in the short run. But I suspect the people working at home are going to feel left out sooner or later, while the people in the office are going to feel jealous of those people who don't have to commute and get to work lounging around home in grubbies."

"There is that," Rob agreed. "And it's something we'd have to look out for. Just throwing ideas around, maybe we could set it up so those people would come into the office maybe one week out of four. Let's face it, people, whatever we do we're going to have problems, but if we can work the kinks out, that one looks like it has a lot of potential. Maybe some business functions could be dealt with that way, too."

"Let me throw out one more thought," Maxine said. "To keep the cash flowing, we need to get several business functions going as quickly as possible, especially sales and billing. While the editorial department is the key to what we do, for the next week or two, it's secondary. The editorial people can do a lot of their work at home on laptops. We really can't."

"Good point," Rob agreed. "As far as the Ford Building space, it's a bird in the hand, and we're not going to want to stay there forever, anyway. Does anyone have any objections to hopping on it now, and working out the details as we go along?"

Several people agreed at once. "All right, we'll nail it down," Rob agreed. "I agree with Maxine, priority has to go to getting business working again. We can take a little more of a breather with editorial. Dick, Michelle, why don't you editorial people head out to the kitchen and throw around some ideas on this home-office idea, pull some people together, get back with me the first of the week? Business side, stay here, we'll work on getting you together first. We're going to have to deal with office fixture, computer, and network issues on the fly, but fortunately insurance should pay for most of it."

Dave joined a small group of editorial people heading for the kitchen. "We really need to pull together a committee to work this out," Dick observed once they were clustered around. "Dave, would you like to be a part of that?"

"I'd like to," he replied. "I have a couple ideas right off the top of my head. But I'm still technically homeless; I don't know when I'm going to be able to get into my apartment. The boys and I are staying with a friend, and this suit and some sweats are literally the only things I have to wear. Plus, I've got other issues I'm going to have to deal with in the next few days, mostly involving Julie. Call me up if you want my opinion on something, but I really would rather not be a part of a working group in the short run."

"Everyone realizes you have those issues," Dick agreed. "Most of us have issues as a result of Tuesday, but yours are worse. I may call you for some input, but we'll make do otherwise. Let's get figured out what we're going to need and how we're going to organize this. My initial reaction is company laptops, but does anyone have other thoughts?"

Dave was able to contribute several good ideas during the brainstorming session in Rob's kitchen. It was as he had said in the meeting -- the idea would simplify a lot of child care issues, especially in the short run. In the long run, he was less than enthusiastic about the plan, for the ideas he had raised, and one that he hadn't -- working from home would mostly remove him from office politics. That had its good points, but also had its bad, such as not being able to guard his back very well. In truth, it was his main objection, although it was one he couldn't state out loud.

By the time the brainstorming session broke up, the outline of the plan had been worked out, although there was obviously going to be filling in and tweaks required. One of the better things, in his mind, was if he could get his desktop or laptop from his apartment, or if Shae would let him use her computer, he could access the backup site and get back to work on editing Dithyran's Probe, the Meghan Solari fantasy novel he'd been working on Monday and once had hoped to have done this week. In spite of the wish that the last few days had been a fantasy, it would be welcome to have something productive to divert his mind.

As soon as the meeting started to wind down, he called Shae's office. "We just wrapped it up," she reported. "I'm just dealing with some paperwork, nothing I can't put off. Why don't you head over here and give me a call when you get downstairs?"

It took half an hour to get out of the meeting and over to meet Shae, then they headed south to the huge emergency center. Dave was able to confirm that there had been no word on Julie, which was not a surprise. He also updated his contact information and the fact he was staying with Shae, and was able to get some other information about available services.

At the emergency center, they were informed that while Battery Park Village was in no way considered safe to occupy, it wasn't so hazardous that a brief visit couldn't be made to gather essentials. They were issued a pass through police lines and told they only had an hour to get inside, climb the stairs since the elevator wasn't working, gather what they could, and get back out. It had to be done today, and before sunset, as the day was wearing on, and there was still no power in the complex.

The only problem was that it would take them close to the pile of rubble that had been the World Trade Center, and leave them in full view of it. "We could put it off until another day," Shae offered when she felt his unspoken reluctance.

"I don't want to do it," Dave told her. "But I think maybe we'd better try."

They headed down to the apartment complex by a route that would give them only limited views of the disaster area, but they still saw more of it than Dave wanted.

Dave's apartment was on the fourteenth floor; the power was out, and the elevators weren't working, so by the time they climbed the last flight of stairs, Dave was huffing, and in the back of his mind was the realization he really ought to be exercising more. All in all, though, it wasn't too bad, until they got inside the apartment.

And then it was harder than he'd ever imagined.

Everything in the apartment reminded him of Julie -- little things, big things, just being there. And even worse was the view out the cracked glass of the living room window, the immense pile of wreckage where Julie's body presumably lay, the pile reaching even higher than where they stood. In spite of everything, of Shae being there with him, all he could do was stand at the window, look out and cry, with Julie's last words going through his mind . . .

Up till this point, there had still been the lingering hope that this was all a bad dream, but seeing the sight out the window brought it home to him like nothing had before. Julie was gone. Forever. He'd never see her again, never look at her smile, hear her laugh. Without her, the prospect of the future seemed empty and bleak; nothing could ever be the way it was again, and it seemed impossible that he might someday again be something like happy.

Shae tried to draw his attention away from the window, from the pain of the apartment, but with little success. Knowing the clock was running, she got a couple garbage bags from the kitchen, ransacked the boys' room for clothing and a few toys, then moved on into Dave and Julie's room. She found a suitcase in the closet and started tossing some of his clothes in it; in a few minutes, she had it full; at the last instant, she noticed his laptop sitting on the dresser and threw it on top. She had to almost physically pull Dave away from the window, where he was transfixed with the scene, and haul him into the hall. There, he was able to pull himself together enough to carry the suitcase, while Shae locked the apartment, then slung the garbage bags over her shoulders and headed for the stairwell, urging him on, basically to keep him from stalling and falling even further into his sorrows.

With Dave pretty wasted and out of it, along with the suitcase and garbage bags, Shae didn't want to take the subway if she could help it. Just plain good luck, there was a cab just outside police lines, and she flagged it down. It was a pretty good ride over to the studio in Brooklyn, and he just sat in the Taurus, glum and tearful as Shae drove back to Staten Island and the apartment. Only the sight of the boys perked him up a little, and then not much; they were all of Julie he had left, they were the future, and somehow he had to make it work for them. While Shae played with the boys, to keep them from being dragged down by their father, he just stared out the window into the darkness, the row of low lights on the far shore. Nothing made sense anymore, and he wasn't sure he wanted it to.

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