Mitosis (The Reckoners, #1.5)

by Brandon Sanderson

The vendor, Sam, was an elderly, bearded man who wore a small red-and-white hat. He grinned at us. “For you, half price,” he said, whipping up two hot dogs. Chicago style, of course. “Half price?” Abraham said. “Saving the world does not inspire the gratitude it once did.”

Some of us fought back with guns and assassinations. Others fought back with a little hot dog stand on the corner.

Newcago was working as well now as it had under Steelheart. We’d tried to replicate his organization, only without that whole “indiscriminate murder of innocents” thing.

Prof been acting weird lately—at least, that was how we phrased it. “Weird” was actually a euphemism for “Prof is secretly an Epic, and he’s trying hard not to go evil and kill us all, so sometimes he gets antisocial.”

“Sparks,” Tia said. “Like rats on a ship.” “Yeah,” I said. “Or glitter in soup.” Tia and Abraham fell silent. “Have you ever tried to get all of the glitter out of your soup?” I demanded. “It’s really, really hard.” “Why would there be glitter in my soup in the first place?” Abraham asked.

David. Don’t do anything stupid.” “When have I done anything stupid?” I demanded. The other two grew silent again.

“Calamity!” Tia said. “David, he’s multiplying. There are hundreds of him, running for you.” “It’s okay. I’m a rhinoceros astronaut.” She was silent a moment. “Oh, sparks. You’re going delusional.” “No, no. I mean, I’m surprising. I’ll surprise him. What’s the most surprising thing you can think of? Bet it’s a rhinoceros astronaut.”