I swing my gaze upward for a moment, blinded by the auburn Sun, dazzling yet dying. I’m only a mere 11 stories from the top. They’re closing in, but only on themselves. The quick weapons and traps to capture me on the 66th have detonated and failed. I’m climbing faster and I swing my legs across the corner to catch myself on the other ivory side. Now I’m just behind Jacob. He calls down without looking, “Easy day, friend. Almost done I think.” And the top is so glorious in my mind that I speed to him. We’re now losing the Thought Police. The copters are proving too slow for our pace now. So now I have a moment of peace. The distance between our two groups is too great to make up. An instant to return to thought and to the goal.