A gathering begins to form before those vigilant eyes during the last few days of October. Airlines scramble to add flights to their schedules, the metro is at constant capacity, and vehicular traffic within the capital ensures that walking is the fastest way to get anywhere aboveground.

The grassy expanse of the National Mall begins to speckle with tents in a slow but relentless occupation days before the actual event, which, as it is scheduled for November first, has been dubbed by the media as the “All Saint’s Uprising.”

From Capitol Hill the portent couldn’t be more ominous than the obsidian-dark wall of a thunderstorm rolling in from the Chesapeake Bay.

• • •

Far to the west, there is another, smaller gathering. This one on a commune outside of Omaha, Nebraska. The gathering is a wedding—a bittersweet one at best, because of the parties involved. Una Jacali will wed Wil Tashi’ne in the only way she can.

The Arápache council forbade it to be done on tribal land. The Tashi’nes, although they love Una dearly, could not support it either, and chose not to attend.

It was Lev who came to Una’s aid, and suggested that a revival commune—a place dedicated to the virtual union of someone divided—would be openminded when it came to Una’s concept of “divisional matrimony.” And Lev knew just the guy to ask.

As it turned out, CyFi and his dads were more than happy to not only provide the venue, but also to track down the beneficiaries of Wil Tashi’ne’s parts—a task much easier now that every last rabbit hole of Proactive Citizenry’s database has been opened to public scrutiny.

Not all of Wil’s parts would come, but enough agreed. Perhaps they agreed to come out of curiosity, or for the novelty, or just for the chance to meet Camus Comprix, who is expected to be among them. All told, there will be twenty-seven grooms, representing almost two-thirds of Wil Tashi’ne. That a number of the grooms will be women seems little more than par for the course.

“True, the course is about as surreal as an Escher staircase,” one of CyFi’s dads pointed out, “but what’s life without a little vertigo?”

76 • Lev

“I gotta tell ya, Fry, you really did a number on yourself with those tattoos—and that fur hat just ain’t working.”

Lev peels the kinkajou from his head, where he often goes, but rarely pees anymore. Lev lets him cling to his shoulder instead. “First of all,” Lev tells CyFi, “they’re not numbers, they’re names; and second, don’t insult Mahpee, or he might claw your eyes out.”

“What? Little umber Elmo got claws?”

Lev smiles. It’s good to see CyFi again, even if it is under unusual circumstances. Of course, any circumstances are better than when they last saw each other.

“So, I hear you got a girlfriend,” teases CyFi.

“Kind of, I think. It’s a long-distance thing,” Lev tells him. “She’s gone back to Indiana with her family, but I’m still on the Rez in Colorado.”

CyFi raises his eyebrows. “Could be worse, if you catch my drift.”

The sun comes out from behind a stray cloud, lighting up the garden. As the day is unseasonably warm, it was decided to have the wedding outside, within the circle of stones at the garden’s center, the participants within the circle, and the guests standing just outside of it. With no tradition for this sort of thing, rules and structure are all spur-of-the-moment. Right now all the “grooms” mill around the inner circle getting to know one another and asking logistical questions of the minister, who keeps offering up shrugs.

Then, just before the ceremony begins, Lev hears a familiar voice behind him.

“I swear, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something crazy.”

He turns to see Connor standing behind him, and not just Connor but Risa as well. The sight of them takes his breath away, quite literally, and Lev starts coughing and gasping. It’s the nuisance of having only one lung. Supposedly, Elina’s getting one of those new machines on the Rez that can grow him a second one, so it won’t always be like this.

“Whoa,” says Connor, “I didn’t mean to freak you into cardiac arrest.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Lev says, finally catching his breath. But as he looks at Connor, he can see that he’s got his own issues. He’s walking with a cane, and even though he’s wearing a sports coat, Lev can see seams on his wrists, along his neckline—and even along his jawline. He suspects there are many more beneath his clothes that Lev can’t see.

“What happened?” Lev asks.

Connor shares a loaded glance with Risa, then says, “Let’s just say I had a gardening accident.”

Lev accepts it without further question, knowing that with Connor sometimes it’s best not to probe. It suddenly occurs to Lev how long it’s been since he, Connor, and Risa have been together—but in a way, it’s the first time, because until today, they were never truly together. When Connor kidnapped him, Lev was a tithe, who ran from both of them the first chance he got. Then, when they met again at the Graveyard, Lev had already detached himself from everyone and everything. He was already a clapper. But now all three of them have come out of their own gardening accidents, and are truly in the same place. Wherever that is.

“Well, the important thing is that you’re here,” Lev says. And then he realizes something. “But . . . why are you here?”