Floor twenty-four was full before the paint was even dry. Families came up the stairs with bags on their backs and children holding their hands. They didn’t wait for someone to call their name. They saw light in the windows and knew what that meant. A room that wouldn’t leak. A door that would close. Above them the tower was still mostly dark. One hundred seventy-six floors with no light. But no one stood on floor twenty-four and felt scared of the dark anymore. They stood there and saw work that hadn’t started yet. The man who used to run City Corp stood at the edge with a hammer in his hand. His palms were hard now. He didn’t wince when a splinter went in. He pulled it out and kept working. “Floor twenty-five next?” he asked Aaron. Aaron was checking a beam with his hand, feeling for any weak spot. “Floor twenty-five,” he said. “But first we check the stairs.” They walked down together. Not to give orders. To feel the steps under their boots. Stairs were what made the tower fee

The tower looked like a lantern from the street now. Thirty-one floors glowed at the bottom. One hundred sixty-nine floors were still dark at the top. But the light was climbing, and people were starting to call the whole thing by that name without thinking about it. The Lantern. It wasn’t a name someone gave it. It was a name people used when they talked. “Meet me at The Lantern.” “I’m going up The Lantern to help.” Names stick when they fit.Floor thirty-two started while floor thirty-one was still warm from the first fires. No one asked if they should rest. They were tired. But tired people still build when they know what the work is for. And the work was rooms.The air was thinner up here. The wind came harder. Ropes cut deeper into palms. But the hands holding them were stronger than before. The man who used to run City Corp was on the rope crew. His shirt was torn at the shoulder. His boots were worn flat. He pulled with everyone else. A new woman on the crew was afraid of

The Lantern had thirty-six floors of light and one hundred sixty-four floors of dark above it. From far away it looked like someone had lit a fire at the bottom of a black stone and the fire was climbing. People on the streets didn’t say “the tower” anymore. They said “The Lantern.” Floor thirty-seven started without anyone making a speech. The wind was worse up here. It came through the open walls and tried to take hats, tools, breath. But the people kept pulling rope. A ladder needs one strong person. A net needs many hands holding together. The Lantern was a net now, and it was holding.The man who used to run City Corp didn’t climb as much. His knees made it hard. But he stayed on the ground where the ropes ran. He watched the lines, called out when a rope twisted, and kept people from pulling against each other. “Left side, easy,” he said. “Right side, wait. Together now.” A beam lifted off the ground and went up. A young man on the rope looked down by accident and stopped b

Forty-four floors had people living in them now. One hundred fifty-six floors above were still empty, but they didn’t look empty the way they used to. They looked like rooms waiting for walls.The houses kept growing. Floor forty-five started on a morning when the air bit your lungs. The wind came down the open sides and tried to push people back. Nobody went back. Wood came up. Nails came up. People came up. The man who used to run City Corp was on the ground again. His knees wouldn’t let him climb much, but his eyes were sharp. He watched the ropes and called out before a tangle could happen. “Hold,” he said. “Left side, two steps. Right side, wait.” A beam lifted and slid into place. A new man on the ropes was shaking. Not from the weight. From the height. “Don’t look past the beam,” the man told him. “Look at the wood. Look at the hands next to you.” The new man looked, and the shaking stopped.Selene kept her small room open on floor twelve. It wasn’t for work. It was for

Three houses stood on the patch behind the buildings now. They were small. One room each. Dirt floors. But they had doors that opened to the sky, not to a stairwell.People liked that. And that was the problem.The fourth house was supposed to start on Monday. By Tuesday morning, the ground was gone.Not literally. But City Corp had put up a fence. Thin metal posts and wire. A sign in red paint: *NO CONSTRUCTION. CITY PROPERTY.*The man who used to be the boss stood in front of it with his arms crossed. “Up there they used paper,” he said. “Down here they use fences.”Aaron didn’t touch the wire. He just looked at it. Behind the fence, the mud from the rain was already drying. “They can’t do that,” Selene said. “People are living in those houses.”“They can,” the man said. “And they will. Unless we give them a reason not to.”That was challenge one: the fence.Challenge two came that night. Someone cut the water pipe they had fixed. Not an accident. The cut was clean. Delibe