Red shook, numb with exhaustion, but he still had a job to do. The envelope was addressed to an old midtown block near Central Park. Alice flew the Hopper along Fifth Avenue, picking up an array of aerial violations, then pulled a hard bank over Grand Army Plaza as she hunted for the building. Her jacket sat in grumpy silence, her phone long since lost. Red looked over the perimeter wall of the park, toward the skeleton of Cortex’s new headquarters. Thousands of twinkling lights traced its half-mile cylinder; automated construction running every second of the year until completion.