She can do curvy bits! The insides of her claws are curvy, it's almost perfect. 

Oh good, now they have locomotives! They take some of the guns off and store them safely away.

Now they need to figure out who should go on the locomotives and what they should go do. Maybe it's time to start negotiating with the Establishment for this new city's right to exist?

"How would that work do you think?"

"I'm thinking we go to the newspapers and give them stories of how horrible the Workworlds really are. They love a good shock, newspapers do. Then popular sentiment will be for us and... Talk to someone from the Ministries, tell them we'll keep making the things we used to make, but at fairer pay and our own management? I don't know if that'll work."

"Telling a reporter sounds like a good idea. Maybe a day trip to London? There are probably newspapers there." 

"There are definitely newspapers there. Some that would risk the Ministry of Public Decency for a good enough story, even."

"Do you know which ones?" 

"No, but I know who does."

They find a former reporter soon enough. She grins wide enough to prompt comparisons to sharks, when the goal is explained, and names several possibilities. Paper and pen are gotten for her, and she vanishes to collect heart-wrenching interviews.

Oh, excellent. 

"Is defying the Ministry why you're here?"

"More or less. I had some... Inconvenient pictures which I thought would suffice to protect me, but I got a little too greedy and my reluctant benefactor wasn't as well-positioned as I thought."

"Ahhhhhhh. Yes, blackmail is a two-edged sword."

"I don't really regret it. I figured I'd poke my nose in something I shouldn't have and die at some point and it'd have been worth the risk. You need to play risky to get the really interesting stories."

"Ha, yeah, as long as you weigh the risks intelligently."

"I'm not very good at that. I'm mostly just good at being nosy and provocative. It worked for a while! That said, I'm off to collect particularly inflammatory stories, I'm sure they'll be useful soon~"

"Probably there are fewer infohazards here than in the Neath. Be careful with Correspondence anyway. Good luck." 

"Thanks!"

They don't have anything particularly urgent for her to do at the moment. Everyone's very busy building a city from scratch. More shining on the forest and crop fields wouldn't go amiss, though.

She shines on some plants for a bit and then decides that now is a good time to try to sneak back to the Reach to fulfill her Bronzewood contract with the Devils. 

They're watching the Relay a lot more carefully this time. Swarms of Customs agents stomping around too.

She goes small and tucks herself into an unobserved cranny of the outside of a passing train. 

It takes some fast movement to get one after it's been scoured by grumpy Customs workers but before the Loom spools up. But she can do it.

And then she is in the black void again. And then she is in the Reach again.

She breaks free of the train and heads for the nearest Bronzewood forest. 

It's a fair distance to where she can find a good Bronzewood tree, but distance is immaterial to a Messenger.

(The one time pad-decoded message indicates a drop-off point near Carillon, and also includes navigation instructions starting from New Winchester.)

She's only one-quarter Messenger, but good enough. 

She fells the trees far from anyone to hear the sound, clutches them in her claws and the grips of her legs, and heads for near Carillon. 

It's cold and snowy near Carillon. The place itself is a sprawling sanatorium complex populated by Devils doing creative things to people who are wholly convinced it's an improving experience. The drop-off point is just out of sight of it.

That's concerning but not exactly the priority right now. She leaves the trees at the drop-off point.