No visor meant no way of contact. It also meant no way to call her side. A tiny wave of cold crept into Nestra’s chest when a full security team burst out from the warehouse gate, blue armor and guns on full display. It was washed away by the heat of pure outrage. When a grizzled anglo approached her with severe eyes, she stood her ground. He was the only one with his face visible while others had a helmet with a faceplate — very much like the gate guard.
Blue-colored gear with no patches, class 2 body armor designed to stop handguns, shotguns and handguns of simple design. Those were on site security designed to fend off petty robbers, not special forces. An old arrogance blew on the embers of Nestra’s mounting rage. She was MaxSec. These were babies.
“Lower those pea shooters or I’ll do it for you,” She bit out, dangling her ID in front of the grizzled man’s nose.
One of the guards made to shove his boom stick in his face.
“I’ll shove that thing up your ass,” she informed him.
“I would like to know why you triggered an EMP in a government secure facility,” the grizzled anglo warned.
“And I’d like to know why your turrets fucking shot at me. Secure facility my ass. I’ve eaten Swiss cheese with fewer holes than the clown parade you’re running in here.”
Wincing, she touched her nose again. Some more blood was seeping. She was sure it wasn’t broken, but her human flesh didn’t heal particularly fast.
Only then did she realize the gate gerd had come to back her up. His gesture — standing by her side with no weapons out — was enough to force his superior to raise a curious brow.
“It’s the truth boss. The turrets glitched and fired on her. She had to fry them.”“You have an emergency shutdown button for a reason, soldier.”
“Well, she was faster.”
Nestra heard the shrug in the following silence. She decided to regain the initiative. Yelling was all well and good but it wouldn’t solve her immediate problem.
“I’m Special Agent Clytemnestra Palladian, with Special Affairs.”
I’m a special girl haha.
“My arrival was scheduled. Your security system was compromised.”
“It could be a glitch,” the anglo muttered.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Look you don’t need to trust me, but I ‘request’ a phone so I can contact my superiors about this. At least you can give me that?”
The officer tapped his ear.
“Suri, can you check her — I see. Alright. We need to look into it. You can call them from our security booth.”
So they could keep an eye on her, Nestra thought. Fucking stupid idea to invite a suspicious person into a security center. She could only assume they didn’t think she could turn them inside out in 5 seconds, which she could if she wanted to. And without her true form.
Only when she looked around the building did she realize her heart was still beating fast and she couldn’t calm down.
“Good thing those were rubber bullets, huh?” the gate guard said in a conversational tone.
“Wouldn’t have changed a thing. I blocked both and my suit is class 4. Still stings though.”
“I thought it had gotten you in the nose?” he said.
“Then I’d be needing reconstructive surgery. I just punched myself from the impact,” she grumbled.
“Oh.”
Nestra sniffed again. The bleeding had stopped but she was going to look like a clown for the next day or so. No need to waste a healer’s time for a big bruise. The guard’s conversation had done its thing though. She was distracted enough to wonder why the fuck she was so nervous anyway. Hadn’t she been shot at before, sometimes successfully? And slowly, she realized why.
All the previous instances had been in places she’d deemed unsafe, whether in MaxSec or later in District 15. But this was the entrance of a government-run facility. Intellectually, she knew Wong’s attackers were on the loose. She just hadn’t registered Depth Six as hostile territory, not yet. Not in her heart.
It’s on me.
“Fuck this,” she grumbled.
The narrow, unadorned corridor led to a security gate, which led to a cramped room that smelled of old sweat and bad coffee. The officer left immediately after. Nestra heard an angry call with IT starting as the door closed on him. The security guards took a casual position around her with the same grace and discretion as a group of seagulls circling a lost fry. The shotgun guy pivoted in his chair, the maw of his weapon slowly angling towards Nestra. She glared at him.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she warned.
He wisely aborted. Meanwhile, the gate guard grabbed an ice pack from the nearby fridge. He handed it and a wet towel to Nestra. It had been white before someone had used it to mop up what looked like strawberry jam. The cold was a massive relief. Maybe she could use ice mana to relieve inflammation in the future.
“Hey, let’s all take a step back and relax?” the gate guard suggested. “I’m Brad. This is —”
“You shouldn’t engage with a suspect, Brad,” Shotgun guy objected.
“She isn’t. Her credentials checked out. It’s the system that glitched,” Brad replied.
He removed his helmet. Nestra was surprised to see how conventionally attractive he looked. While Bard had been the perfect surfer until his betrayal, Brad was the perfect lead for a second-rate drama: good-looking with just one physical feature to differentiate him: here a cleft chin. Well, not exactly perfect. He was still a baseline, and that was a factor in Threshold, but he definitely didn’t resemble the fattening, retired law enforcement people she expected to see in this dead end position.
“I’m Nestra,” she introduced herself.
Given how early he’d warned her about the security system activating , and how he’d rushed to open the gate, possibly violating safety procedures, she didn’t think he had been the one trying to get her killed. Or disabled.
“Are entrance turrets normally armed with rubber bullets?” she asked.
“Yes,” Brad volunteered. “Anything rubber bullets won’t slow down will probably resist lead ones anyway.”
“We’re here to slow down intruders,” shotgun guy said. “Those who would try to storm Depth Six would never be stopped by a bunch of baselines with gear that could gently massage a dokkaebi.”
He sounded bitter. His head lowered, though it was still covered.
“And sorry about earlier. I just… we’re not showing ourselves in a good light, but…”
“It’s fine,” Nestra said. “Alright, let me make that call.”
With some help from Brad actually finding the Special Affairs contact number, she managed to get reinforcements promised at good speed. The voice that screamed through the phone ordered her to stay put and to keep her weapon handy. It made everyone briefly tense again.
Also that voice had been strangely familiar.
“While I’m here, let me ask you something. My predecessor, Sara Wong, came here several times. What was she asking?”
Brad and shotgun exchanged a glance.
“It was…” shotgun began.
“The latest visit was about the built-in mana measurement device. She wanted to know if it was linked to the security system. It isn’t.”
“We have old manameters to measure the magical concentration of everything that’s coming and going,” shotgun said. “Looks like an old thermometer. There’s barely any electronics in there and we have to input the data manually when something comes and goes.”
So it couldn’t be hacked. Nestra frowned.
“You measure the mana concentration of everything that comes and goes, you said?”
“We sure do,” Brad replied. “But not just that: weight, temperature. Riel, we even scan for movement.”
“Hypothetically,” she added. “Hey don’t look at me, it’s a possibility.”
“Well, yeah,” Brad said. “But we rotate a lot specifically to avoid that kind of thing.”
“And because it prevents us from growing complacent,” shotgun added.
“Not to mention, security is much more stringent for shipments. Two people, at least. Not saying it couldn’t be done, but, you know, you’d probably want to have a normal employee do it over the course of months. With a big bag.”
Nestra made a mental note to check anyway. Was it what Wong had been expecting? It would have taken a long time… She knew it had already taken far too long for Depth Six to notice the theft with their random checks. She would expect someone who skimmed off the top to just take what they needed, transfer them out, and then do it again after a while. This theft felt more like someone had grabbed a lot of stones.
She was making quite a few assumptions here.
“If someone was trying to get the stones out then, could they do it another way? Drones?”
“Depth Six is under a flight interdiction. No drones, no planes, no gleams.”
“We did have an air and earth gleam break it but she just skimmed the edge. When was it? Two years ago? Probably not relevant.”
Did it sound like Claire? It sounded like Claire. Nestra cleared her throat.
“Ahem. So no drones?”
“Not unless whoever did it also hacked the city’s radar control.”
That was more than unlikely.
“Alright. An air gleam jumping over the fence? Earth gleam tunneling?”
“The city installed tremor detectors,” shotgun explained.
“And there are cameras on the outside. Again, possible but unlikely,” Brad added. “It was probably something hidden. Something a camera wouldn’t pick.”
“Shadow gleam teleporting?” Nestra suggested.
“Don’t they need to know where they’re going? And I thought they struggled through solid matter. The walls are really thick here.”
“No wait, I remember something,” Shotgun said with a frown.
He grabbed a pad. A moment later, he showed a slow motion video of a gleam fight. One Nestra recognized.
“Look at this shadow gleam. See how she can just phase through the ground and pop back up?”
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
It was footage of her fighting the portal breach in front of the Garden Square mall. The one that had left Sereth baffled.
“She’s not diving really deep though,” Brad said. “I mean, you can always have her brought in for interrogation?” Brad told her with a cheeky smile.
“Yeah sure let me drag masked gleams off the street,” she joked.
“You know, Wong asked us almost the same questions,” shotgun mentioned after a moment of silence. “Last time.”
It sounded like she was on the verge of a breakthrough. Maybe that was why she’d been silenced. But then, why try to disable Nestra on the spot? The security system probably wouldn’t have killed her but she’d have been disabled, and then immediately replaced? It reeked of desperation.
Nestra’s musings were interrupted by a wave of metal mana pulsing outside the door. A polite warning announcing a furnace of anger. It tasted like metal.
Her reinforcements had arrived.
***
AN: I previously made a mistake identifying Ashjay as male in one scene. I will rectify it in the RR chapters.
Nestra’s reinforcement was strangely familiar. It took her a moment to identify the sturdy woman who’d stomped in as Ashjay, a gleam she’d met when she’d found Teneru’s victim for the first time. Their first meeting had been… tense. The woman still had dark skin, but she had allowed her black hair to grow, and her eyes shone a deeper gray than Nestra remembered. The first time they’d met, Ashjay had been at the top of C-class. She had ascended since then, a sign she still actively raided.
It was interesting comparing her to her brother. Ashjay’s metal was solid, perhaps rigid while Ulysses’ metal served to carry his electric mana. He was velocity and sharp death while she felt less defined, even though they were both at the same rank. It was interesting to see that, at any level, there were still massive differences between reasonably-talented and hard-working people and genius raiders.
It left a bad taste in her mouth to call her bro a genius. He was still an ass.
Behind Ashjay came a group of augs and baselines backed up by two gleams in the same white uniform as their boss. The thawing mood in the booth plummeted to arctic levels when the invasion became clear. Ashjay flashed her ID, which said, in compact writing, that she was the Boss now.
“Good morning. I am Captain Ashjay with Special Affairs. You are temporarily relieved of your duties pending investigation. You will immediately log out of any implant you possess that connects you to the security system, if you have any, and relinquish your work-related electronics. You may not leave the facility. I will ask you to wait in your mess hall.”
“Can we call our syndicate?” Shotgun guy asked.
Nestra had to give it to him. He was ballsy.
“If you think it is wise,” Ashjay replied after a chilling delay.
It was probably wise. They had lawyers.
“Right. See you later,” Brad replied, and he made to leave, but Ahsjay stopped him with a raised hand.”
“You can leave all your weapons in their racks. Including your sidearms.”
It was funny how people with tons of authority and no patience used ‘may’ and ‘can’ as substitutes for ‘you’d better’. At least she wasn’t on the receiving end of Ashjay’s ire. This time.
A pair of augs sat at the security console as soon as the guards were gone. Ashjay gave Nestra a cursory glance.
“Do you need medical assistance?”
“No I’ll just have a bruise,” Nestra replied.
“Alright. Gimme ten so I can get us started, then I’ll talk to you there. Stay put.”
Nestra left the captain to start a fire under everyone’s ass without complaints.
***
Ashjay had brought a team of almost twenty people with more providing support from another security team. This had gone from a single person operation to a fucking army. Among the twenty was a full IT team that essentially replaced the entire Depth Six facility one, purged the system and changed all the passwords. They also heavily restricted what everyone could do to a draconian degree. The janitor couldn’t fart without a mandate signed in triplicate.
It only took twenty minutes to get everything started, following which Ashjay realized Nestra couldn’t work without a visor, so she had a new one delivered by drone, then synced with Nestra’s cloud backup (and thank fuck for that). Ashjay then realized Nestra was using the visor for both personal and police work which wouldn’t do on such a sensitive case, so Nestra now had two visors. Her tax money at work!
After Nestra described what had happened to her earlier, Ashjay had them move to a conference room on the same level. It was much more comfortable, with a better smell and a coffee machine.
“You did well helping Furzi prove the murder attempt,” Ashjay said. “It allowed us to move fast because now it’s a criminal conspiracy, not just a grand theft.”
“Okay but I have a question,” Nestra interrupted.
Ashjay opened her hands, inviting Nestra to talk. Her face was a bit too neutral for someone of her rank who should be, well, smoother? Ilar had been a consummate politician. By contrast, Ashjay felt more like an officer. She didn’t feel like the best option.
“You’re not just Special Affairs, you’re Special Crimes. Aren’t you guys supposed to go after dangerous gleams? I didn’t check the entire roster here, but I doubt they have many raiders on call. So what’s going on?”
“You know that we can get called to respond to other crimes if necessary.”
Nestra gave Ashjay the Look. The older woman didn’t react.
“Will I get the truth or do we stop at the corpo answer?” Nestra asked after a while.
“There is movement in the city,” Ashjay replied after a short hesitation. “Some of our American guests are doing some peculiar things. Traveling business people and academics have landed with assistants that do not match the expected profile. What do you know about the Rebirth?”
Nestra knew them very well since those absolute cocksuckers had tried to capture her in her damn home, forcing her to relocate and also ruining her gardenia, which had unfortunately been hanging on the front wall. Pots and tungsten didn’t mix well.
“Rings a bell. They’re a political lobby, right?”
“Primarily a Protestant Christian fundamentalist lobby, though they weirdly recruit from other faiths as well. They’re gaining momentum in the polls. Let’s just say they have an interest in Threshold’s resources. The theft might be related.”
“So you really are here because it’s all hands on deck.”
Ashjay shifted.
“Some of those assistants I mentioned are raiders who punch above their weight class with only tangential interests in business or science.”
“Ah.”
Nestra sat back in her seat. She resisted the urge to get another coffee.
“Ok, so what do we do now? I assume I’m no longer the lead on this?”
“Well, not exactly, but we were hoping you would keep doing what you’re doing.”
‘Who’s we?” Nestra asked with some suspicion.
“The team and I. And I will say that I am relieved that you don’t seem upset. This isn’t a punishment because you’ve been doing very well so far.”
Ah, there was the politician.
“I have seen what happens when pride takes the lead,” Nestra replied, remembering the Sword Saints. “And by doing what I’m doing, you mean you want me to work independently?”
Ashjay nodded, then she sent a file to Nestra, who opened it on her brand new visor that still smelled of new plastic. She whistled.
“Is that the facility’s blueprint?”
“It’s obvious that at least one of the culprits is still here and still has access. IT confirmed there was an unauthorized login to trip the security system. They covered their tracks well, but we’re going to get them. It will still take some time, so while I conduct interviews and do things by the numbers, I would like for you to poke your nose where you think it stinks.”
Nestra gasped.
“You’re letting me off the leash? Really?”
“Your track record speaks for itself. I do not believe your talent for getting in trouble would be best used following procedure to the letter. Go out there and make trouble.”
“Yes ma’am. Can I get Brad? I need a guide.”
Ashjay blinked.
“Brad?”
“The guard who ran to get me out of the security booth. We still need people who know the place and the people here. Before you drag all of them to interrogation rooms.”
“If you think you can trust him…”
***
“So here it is. The scene of the crime.”
Nestra stepped out of the massive elevator into a large room lit by a comfortable number of lights. Although the ceiling was quite high, the room felt cramped nonetheless. Rack upon rack of standard issue containers occupied most of the free space stacked five high with a smaller elevator and stairs nestled against the wall to her right, where she assumed people worked. The air smelled clean. A quiet whirr of ventilation provided an electric hum as ambiance. As a native Thresholder, the sound almost felt like home. Those were the only signs of activity, however.
“Where is everybody?” Nestra asked.
Brad pointed to the small elevator to the side.
“Anyone currently working here will probably be in the operations room. Depth Six doesn’t have that much staff, by the way, not compared to its size.”
Nestra remembered it was something like a hundred and twenty if one included the janitors and on-site admin staff. Pretty low for something that went down twenty-three levels.
The elevator was more like an open platform, a tight fit since both Brad and herself were wearing armor. It led to a gangway that encircled the room. Distant gates led to other, similar warehouses on the same level. Four total, fifty meters long each if she remembered correctly.
“Over there,” Brad pointed.
Nestra saw windows above her head. A secure gate led to a short set of stairs which wrapped around a storage space. Above that, they found the operations room. Nestra knocked before entering, but she still startled the two people inside — two men and one woman. There was a tall Chinese guy who couldn’t look more like an engineer if he tried, complete with the glasses and basic haircut, a short, tanned Thai man with face tattoos and a build that told her he could probably fold three of the site’s guards like laundry, and the woman, who was one of Threshold’s few black people, with squarish features and a look like she’d already seen it all. All three stopped their conversation as soon as she entered. After a second of delay while Nestra inspected the wall to wall displays, the tall Chinese was the first to speak.
“Are the interviews already starting? We were told it wouldn’t be until 2PM for us.”
“Ah no. I’m Special Agent Palladian. You guys know Brad, I presume?”
“We’ve met,” the Thai guy replied.
“Hey Rattakul!” Brad cheerfully greeted. “I’m showing her around.”
“Right,” Nestra said. “I wanted to see the scene of the crime.”
“I mean… everything’s already been cleaned,” the engineer replied. “Your team didn’t find anything last time, though I suppose we’re going through this whole circus again…”
“Yes, I read the report. What I’d like to see is how it works. How are the containers accessed?”
The three exchanged a glance.
“I’m not sure we’re allowed…” the woman said.
Nestra waved her ID.
“Maybe you’re not but I am. Log it in if you must, but let me see it… unless you think I’m a thief as well?” she finished with a smile.
It didn’t make them laugh.
“Hmm, Gwagwa, you show her? I’m officially on break,” the tall guy said.
“She’s the supervisor,” Rattakul explained.
His eyes kept going from Nestra’s face to the holster hiding under her overcoat. He was definitely not a career warehouse operator, that was for sure. It didn’t mean anything though. It was just that warrior recognized warrior. Nestra had seen it before. The fact he was a low aug didn’t change anything.
The next time he did it, she still patted her gun, which made him look away.
“Alright,” Gwagwa said with a tired voice. “The men and I are in charge of this level. There are two more people but they’re off right now.”
Nestra nodded.
“We do everything from operations to maintenance, but we’re not the only ones cleared to move containers here. The controls are designed to be fairly simple. We’re just faster because we’re more familiar with it.”
An implant flashed on her neck. The main screen next to her flashed. There were a series of beeps and fast screen changes while submenus opened and closed faster than Nestra could read them. A massive mechanical claw lowered itself from the ceiling while the racks shifted. She turned to watch it because it was fairly impressive.
The installation was entirely modular. All of the containers could not just move front and back but also up and down. Entire rows would shift smoothly with the muted clanks of shifting metal. It was so harmonious it was almost a dance, and in less than twenty seconds, a red container was grabbed by the claw, then softly placed on a space marked by yellow paint and the words ‘DO NOT STAND HERE’ written in seven languages.
“We do this for individual inspections, or if only part of the contents need to be changed. If the container were to be brought topside, I would drop it on one of the tuggers — those are low trucks designed to fit in the elevator.”
“In case of emergencies we can shove the containers directly into the elevator, three per trip, and turn off the safety mechanisms so it shoots up.” tall guy explained. “We can get around six containers out per minute.”
“On a good day,” Gwagwa added. “There have been some disappointing training sessions, let me tell you.”
They explained that the personnel would drill monthly to make sure the facility would work well in case of emergency.
“Could the theft have happened during one such drill? What do you think?” Nestra asked.
“You tell me. You’re the cop,” Gwagwa said.
She felt more defensive than the others but, again, that didn’t mean anything. Some people just didn’t trust cops. Having met some of her colleagues on the force, she couldn’t blame them.
Fucking Bard.
“Lots of people around,” Rattakul explained. “The containers remain closed. Most of the time we pick the empty ones, or those that do not contain the most precious goods, as in, the crystals. Wang? What do you think?”
“There are lots of eyes out during the drills. The facility works 24/7, but there are few people in the dead of night. It would make much more sense to steal then. Twenty minutes, open and shut, and done. You’d only need one person with access too.”
Nestra nodded. That made a lot of sense to her.
“So only one person is needed to get the container in and out of the rack. What about in and out of the facility?”
Again, the three exchanged a glance.
“Look, we’re not familiar with…”
“You would need to talk to the people topside. We’re not experts here.”
“I’m pretty sure no trucks go in or out at night. For safety reasons.”
Nestra frowned. She was starting to think she’d figured out what Sara Wong was trying to understand.
“Ok, thank you. Now to open the container.”
They went down. There was a lock but it was basic, as there had been no particular need for security until now. Like with most emergency supplies, having too tight a security would get in the way of function, mainly getting stuff quickly to people who needed it. After she was done, she had the team replace the container in the stack.
While they did so, her mind wandered, returning to Argent Ephis and the lizard village. She remembered the blue clay pottery workshop, a sign that the lizards could have industry, they just hadn’t developed it yet. But now seeing Threshold where a single baseline could flip three cubic fucktons of supplies with just an implant and the power of their minds reminded her of the abyss between the two civilizations. What were the Aszhii like? Wouldn’t they be so scattered that they would lack a unifying culture? What did it even mean for the species?
Shinran’s facility showed that at least some of the species of the multiverse were even more developed than humanity. Significantly more so even, then why had they not taken over everything? How were individual might and civilization-wide progress balanced?
To think she could find out, if she survived. It was a little exciting.
“What now?” Brad asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“We visit other levels, but first I need to talk to my boss. Give me a moment.”
She sent Ashjay a message asking her if she had a moment. The high gleam called her on the spot.
“What is it?”
Her voice was curt, fast. Typical new B-class forgetting the others hadn’t sped up with them.
“Ashjay, getting the containers out of storage moves a lot of stuff. I’m thinking, maybe there will be unusual spikes in electricity consumption?”
“We know. We’ve already determined the theft happened once per week over a few months before stopping a month ago. Always at the same time too, which doesn’t help us that much. Good thinking though.”
“It still eliminates people from the list of primary suspects, right?”
“Yes. Was there something else?”
“Yeah, I think I figured out what Sara had been checking right before she was taken out. So it’s easy to get to the crystals because it can be done in the dead of night and with no witnesses, but getting anything in and out of Depth Six itself involves multiple teams and independent checks. It’s extremely hard to do.”
“Yeah?”
“So I think, what she concluded was that, and unless we find some major irregularities —”
“Yeah?”
“I think the stones are still here.”
There was a pause while Ashjay digested the theory.
“Interesting. That would explain why both you and her were attacked while focusing on Depth Six rather than partner facilities. We also didn’t find any evidence that a gate guard would ask to change shifts to always let the same person in and out. Well, we found one but..”
“But?” Nestra prompted.
“After a brief interrogation and a few checks it turned out that they were having an affair.”
Agh. Horny people interfering with her police work again.
“I would tend to agree with the assessment,” Ashjay continued. “It doesn’t mean that she was right, but that feels plausible. I will organize a search but it will take a while. In the meantime, keep digging.”
“Alright.”
***
Nestra spent the entire rest of the day visiting the tortuous innards of Depth Six: warehouse upon warehouse of containers, larger spaces housing construction walkers, battle walkers, even disassembled fighter jet frames, all of them connected by corridors, emergency elevators, or maintenance trapdoors linked to simple ladders. Chrome, steel and metal over concrete. A quiet place, with the rare human ruling over cranes, computers, turbines and other machines by the legion. There were even access points to the city’s expansive network of evacuation tunnels, although those were magnetically locked behind a blast door that couldn’t be opened without an evacuation order. Nestra met the rather hostile manager in charge of military storage, a taciturn man who didn’t appreciate ‘being messed with when none of his storage had gone missing, thank you very much.’ There was also the generator layer. Those were fully functional, massive energy units that barely fit in the elevator. They were self-contained and virtually ready to use at any time. As a result, they ran more often than she’d thought.
“So an energy grid isn’t like a water grid,” a bald technician by the name of Xu told her. “You can’t have reserves. What you put in comes out. Our generators are hooked in and designed to start quickly, so we sometimes start them up when the city’s demand peaks, for example now when it’s coldest.”
He gave her thin overcoat a dubious glance.
“Ice gleam. I’m highly resistant,” she explained.
“Ah.”
The mention of her gleam status threw cold water (haha) on the conversation. Fortunately, Brad came to the rescue before she could attempt to salvage it.
“Xu here turned the department around. Used to be that the generators would fail to turn on on time, or function below efficiency, isn’t that right?”
“A simple matter of training,” the man replied with a thin smile. “Fortunately, the powers that be offered the carrot on top of the stick, in the form of financial incentives. Since then, my team and I have performed well.”
“Neat.”
That was the last level. On her way up, Nestra considered what she’d seen. If the crystals were still there, then they must be well hidden. Every level had several storage spaces for spare parts, maintenance access with panels etc etc. It wasn’t a maze but there were so many hidey-holes, it would take forever to explore everything, and that was before considering drones. An enterprising person could get a very basic drone to carry small crystal packages inside of ventilation vents… And that was just an idea on top of her head. Someone who was smart enough to steal the crystals undetected must possess the kind of mind that comes up with the most outlandish plans. She needed to take a step back and think about the case again. Assuming the crystals were still there, how had the culprits planned to get them out?
Did they even intend to sell them?
She wasn’t sure. As she left Depth Six behind for the night, her visor rang. She checked the caller. It was Valerian.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nestra, are you free tonight? Sorry to bother you but it’s a little urgent.”
“I’m free, yes.”
“I have a colleague here coming straight from Boston. He expressed a very strong interest in your case and core repair by extension. I understand your aunt owns the company that provides this service?”
Ah shit.
“Yes?”
“Would you mind coming to see me for dinner at the Burning House? My treat, of course. I would appreciate it.”
It was dangerous. Dangerous, but she doubted they would try to kidnap her in the middle of a famous restaurant.
It was a perfect opportunity to learn more.
“Alright, but not too late because I got a lot of work.”
“Of course. Thank you, Nestra. See you later.”
She had just hung up when a written message came next. It was also from Valerian.
“He is lying. Come armed and scout him out. I think you are in trouble.”
How much did they know?