As Max headed out for the day, he paid more attention than he ever thought he would in Vegas, studying the buildings. He noticed that several of the big casinos and other businesses were under new management; the names had changed and, in some cases, even the decorations and color schemes were different. The Vegas strip would still be brightly lit though.

  Of course, being that the world was different now, there were other changes as well. In addition to police, Max saw a few people wearing either military gear or conspicuous-looking Challenger armor as they patrolled the area. When Max felt their auras, he shook his head. Although his control wasn't dialed in fine enough to truly determine what local rank they were yet, he got the feeling that none of them were above a C-rank.

  However, Las Vegas now was just as busy as it had been prior to monsters attacking. In fact, if anything, it was more crowded now. At first, Max found the crowding strange, considering that so many people around the world had already died. But then when he realized that the survivors had all moved into basically half of the United States, the Vegas Strip being busy was far less surprising.

  Not only that, this area had a high concentration of American Challenger guilds.

  He was somewhat surprised that the patrols were relatively low-ranked. After all, if a high-ranking Challenger were to go berserk, it would likely be the responsibility of whoever's business that person destroyed to fix it. Max remembered all the security around the teleportation room he'd come through before, which was actually his destination now. But after thinking about it more, he realized he would bet money that every rich business on the strip would have their own Challengers working as security, maybe even their own private bodyguards for management, too.

  Max shook his head, wondering if any of the Challengers employed in the civilian sectors would go to the front lines of the war, even if they were ordered to. The same rules, the same concept he'd thought of before, that the law now was more of a suggestion than a rule, might also apply to Challengers who were asked or ordered to fight for humanity.

  He believed it would require a decent level of delusion, cowardice, or stupidity to actively avoid helping prevent destruction and save the world. But Max was old. He'd seen a lot. And there was no level of stupidity that would really surprise him too much, especially people who were being showered with riches and indulging in hedonism.

  The taxi pulled up to the curb and Max got out. He took a deep breath and settled his shoulders. He felt a little irritated and there were no targets to vent his frustration on other than at himself.

  His day had started fairly early, then after some light training, he’d tried walking to the casino with the teleport. However, he’d underestimated how long the walk would take, and he hadn’t wanted to flaunt his abilities, so he’d had to find a taxi. The total trip had ended up taking much more time than he thought it would, and now he regretted not just getting a taxi in the first place.

  Taking a rental would have been a pain in the ass a different way. Max absolutely hated looking for parking spots.

  His destination, the casino, was called "Den of Heroes". He had no idea what it might have been called before the world changed, but he definitely knew that it had been renamed.

  Once through the double doors, he was shadowed by a security team and not long after that, they were replaced by a Challenger security team duo that were both at least B rank. Max was impressed by the speed that whoever was running this show had just reacted to him randomly showing up.

  Nobody stopped him as he walked towards the teleporter. A few people looked up or squinted their eyes as they studied him, but nobody actually said anything or challenged his right to be there.

  A new set of high powered guards were stationed outside the teleport room where he remembered the other pair had been. They narrowed their eyes, glanced down at their phones before studying him again, and otherwise didn’t move. Max suspected that Lance had put him on some sort of VIP list. There was no other explanation for the fact he hadn’t even been asked any questions.

  Finally, he reached the actual teleportation room and this time a different woman than he'd met before was standing there, seemingly waiting on him. She was an older Hispanic woman, and she smiled easily at Max. "Traveling, I presume?" she asked. "Unless you've come to stare at these less than interesting walls with me."

  Max laughed politely and said, "I'd like to go to the Patriot Guild, please."

  Suddenly, a middle aged woman wearing a pantsuit with her hair up in a tight bun rushed into the room from outside. She held a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. As she moved past without even looking at him, Max saw that some sort of contraption held a large phone to the clipboard. Presumably, she was using her phone as a tablet or touchpad. The business casual-dressed newcomer whispered something to the woman who was manning the teleporting room and then she left as quickly as she'd come.

  The teleporter watched the clipboard woman leave, then gave Max an amused look. "Aren't you at all curious as to why we were able to just walk in here?"

  Max shook his head. "I figure it has something to do with my permission level via the Patriot Guild. I mean, I'm sure they're paying for this too. But I also figured that in addition to the obvious security between here and the front of the casino, there are others that I can't see, including some sort of recon or sensing Paths. After all, we all know there is probably shape changers out there, so just a visual or maybe even fingerprints might not be enough to know someone is who you think they are. But it's really hard for people to change their auras."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The teleporter's eyebrow shot up as she heard Max's explanation. "Wow. Haven't you just been back on Earth a short time?"

  He gave her a look. "I didn't know that my personal history was common knowledge now."

  "Oh, it's not," she said, and shook her head. "Part of my job is just to know all the VIPs on site. As a new one, you were pretty easy to remember some details for. Not least of which, because there are so few Returners anymore. Most Returners now have a higher possibility of being special or more powerful in some way. Well, most are probably still average, but you just never know if one is going to be a new guild leader or something. So those of us that have figured out this pattern also pay extra attention to new Returners on the VIP list."

  "Oh."

  She smacked her head. “That's right. Here, this is my card."

  Max accepted a fancy business card from the teleporter and it was his turn to show surprise.

  Jessica Fane

  Teleporter, Deno of Heroes Casino

  Private Commission Accepted.

  "You have a side business?" He asked. "How is that even possible when you're a teleporter, Path and probably under constant security?"

  "Look at the location on the back," she said, "bottom left of the card." Max nodded slowly. In addition to her phone and email contact information, the only physical address or location on the card–either side–was the Den of Heroes. "I live in this casino," she said conversationally.

  "So your guild gets a cut even if I use you for a private teleportation?" Asked Max.

  "That's about right. Part of it is because you are correct that I need constant guarding. Well, I don't think I do, but a lot of other people do. And they're smarter than me, and I'm not stupid enough to ignore them."

  Max chuckled. "That's a good way to explain it. I'll have to remember that one. But why would I approach you during off hours for a teleport instead of just coming here?"

  "Actually, three reasons. One, it's cheaper. Two, you can reach me almost any time. And three, I'm not limited to only teleporting you to another official teleportation location."

  Max blinked at that. "Isn't it dangerous to send somebody somewhere that you haven't verified is empty?"

  "It depends on the location and the individual.” She shrugged. “I can usually get a good feel of what is at my destination. On top of that, if I’m sending to an unknown location, I usually teleport people about ten feet in the air, outside. That way even if I somehow got it wrong, there would be some some wiggle room."

  Max slowly nodded. "Do all teleporters run the risk of teleporting somebody into solid matter?"

  "No. Really high class teleporters or powerful mages that can also teleport don't have that problem, but they're also strong enough that they wouldn't be working full time in a teleportation room like this."

  "Fair enough. So since you can see ahead to where you’re ‘sending,’ does that mean you don’t need to communicate with the location I'm going?"

  She winked. "Nah, I still do. Part of it is SOP and part of it is, like I said, just another way to make sure accidents won't happen. Where are you going again You already said so, right?"

  "Yes. Patriot Guild," said Max.

  "I’m just kidding. The truth is I had a feeling you'd say that earlier, so before you got here I actually got the all-clear already."

  Max grinned. "You know what? So far you're my favorite teleporter, and that's saying something because since I've been back on Earth, every teleporter I've met has made a good, solid impression." He suddenly frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure if I can say that about the first person I met here when I came through a few days ago. I mean, she left an impression, but..."

  "I think I know who you're talking about," said Jessica, amusement in her voice. "Believe it or not, I actually heard about you first from her. It seems you left an impression on her, too."

  "Oh, goody," said Max, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The teleporter laughed again and a second later Max found himself in the familiar teleportation room within the Patriot Guild. This time, the Patriot Guild teleporter was a short, almost painfully pale young man, wearing glasses. He nodded at Max and his expression wasn't unfriendly but somehow Max knew that this teleporter wasn't exactly the chatty type. He waved at the man, who just gave him a nod, and then Max left the teleportation chamber.

  None of the Patriot Guild guards stopped him, but by the time he reached the hallway, a young woman with dark hair and purple makeup came running up, moving at an easy, loping superhuman speed that would have pegged her for a Challenger even if Max hadn't been able to feel the small bit of power rolling off of her. He judged that she was probably a D-rank.

  "Max Cunningham," she panted.

  "That's me," he said.

  "I'm Sarah Ross. I'm going to be your guide and liaison today while you're here in the Patriot Guild."

  "Oh really?" said Max. He began walking towards a large picture window on the other side of the hallway. He was suddenly anxious and didn't want to stay still, but knew he couldn't take off down either side of the hallway yet because he didn't know where he was going. After a moment of thought, pondering how much he could justify revealing during his trip, he asked, "What kind of clearance or permissions has Lance, I mean the Guild Leader, given me?"

  “The very highest. Just after him.” She smiled helpfully.

  "Okay, good," said Max. "There's two places I want to go. First, Lance mentioned something about a teleportation or transference team who has been studying the magic, or theory of moving people around. I want to have a chat there. Then I want to see if you have a range, like a gun range with pretty substantial coverage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need it to be safe for me to try using an ability that is similar to a gunshot, but then I can't quite control yet. Like, generation direction, maybe, but no promises, sorta thing."

  "Ah, okay, teleportation theory and target practice," she said. "Sounds like a cool day. You want to get going now, or would you like to get a snack and a water first?"

  If Max only had his experiences on earth to draw from, the question might have thrown him or made him feel awkward. Instead, he felt old habits from his days as Chasa de Milo creep up. He nodded in a businesslike manner. "No snacks for now," he said. "Business first. Let's go to the teleportation place."

  "All right, sounds good. Follow me." Sarah began walking briskly down the hallway to the left and Max was glad that this time he had a liaison who seemed competent. In fact, Sarah was so good at her job Max genuinely couldn't tell if she was always this bubbly or if it was just an act while she performed her role.