John

The door opens from Milliways onto the tumbletown ruins of what used to be an industrial area on the fringes of Arlington. The temperature is summertime-warm, the air dry; the last rains to pass through here are long since gone. Overhead, a scavenger bird or two circles, visible only to people who know what they're looking for. A breeze listlessly stirs the air, kicking up brief dust-devils along the shattered ruin of the local roads. Beyond that, the place is quiet in the way that only emptiness can bring.

"This is where I came in," Ellen says over her shoulder. "Like I mentioned the other day, it's about a day's travel to the Fort Bannister region from here. There's still some pre-war asphalt laid down here but pretty soon it all gives way to open sand and scrub. The nearest radiation source is a hundred yards northeast of here, and we're not going in that direction, so unless my Geiger counter goes off without warning we should be all right."