The corner eye's electronic counter, his constant friend for months now, finally read DP: 402. He stood on the leveled expanse of Riverside Village, his face baked by the sun. For weeks, each waking moment had been spent surrounded by the Outbreak System's flashing, immediate alerts: a potential cholera cluster from the contaminated river, a potential measles epidemic in an adjacent hamlet. Each victory over these short-term threats had been met with a small, satisfying chime and a few meager Development Points. He'd applied them to support the nascent Health Oracle Network (HON)—additional medical material, a motorbike for Anna Brooks to travel to distant patients, and a used water filter. But today, he was about to invest in something else.
"Anxious?" Anna's voice was gentle beside him.
