Page 68 of Spark Transform

The flitter’s side door opened, and a figure leaned out. “Package him in here. Traffic control system trying to ground us, but the ‘port launch window won’t wait.”

Fish hunkered down low, trying to make herself small. She recognized the distinctive voice with its whistling tone. Wutala’s new security chief, Tycall. The two snowsuit-wearing rampers followed orders with efficient speed.

All Fish could do was watch as they loaded their wounded, then carried unconscious Brenner into the flitter and took off.

Staying crouched on the street in the drifting snow, she recorded a message to Soleil with as much detail as she could remember. She tried not to think about how Wutala specialized in hostile pickups. No one ever came back.

Chapter 24

Planet: Mabingion • GDAT 3242.227

Ahuddled, snow-dusted figure climbed into the skytrain’s car and stomped twice to kick slush off their boots before trudging toward the back.

“Pid pong-tai!” snarled the irritable man seated across from the sliding double doors.

Arco couldn’t blame him for not wanting a face full of snow, but cursing at the doors for the last three stops hadn’t made them close any faster. Why he stayed in that seat was a mystery.

Over her earwire, Minan’s tone sounded, followed by her voice. “The AI is rerouting us again. We’re taking the next stop, then a five-minute wait for E98NE6. That puts us eighteen minutes to target.”

Arco adjusted her face scarf and tapped her acknowledgment.

Her team shouldn’t be there at all, but she had to admit she was glad to have them. Especially since crafty Minan had no compunctions about using her tech implant to convince public systems to give her privileged access and assistance. Without her, the trip would have been an exhausting marathon rather than a sprint.

Life had gone chaotic soon after Arco had sneaked into Novo Granica’s offices that morning. She met with Nilsson, the newest team member, while the rest of the team went to scrounge breakfast. The food cart vendors left early in the deteriorating weather.

Nilsson scouted the office area while Arco finalized her exit arrangements. She’d just finished organizing her Novo G work for hand-off when an emergency alert tone sounded on all tech throughout the building. Moments later, Tapio himself came online via holo to tell them why.

“Reliable, credible sources tell us the CPS and the Ridderth police are only hours away from launching hundreds of strikes that will surpass the Mabingion Purge five years ago. This time, the targets include media companies large and small, with Novo Granica at the top of the list.”

Tapio’s grave but calm tone riveted her. “We’ve shared our intel with other companies and pooled our information. I just sent you all a ping ref for an anonymously published map and target list. Multi-confirmed sources are in red. Blue means unconfirmed, but multiple sources. Gray means rumor. Share it with anyone you care about.”

Arco committed the ping-ref to memory.

“We’re activating the crisis response protocol. Gather your critical gear and follow the guidance from Security on how and when to leave. We must be out by twelve-hundred hours. The storm will hide our evacuation, but make it harder to scatter effectively. Protect yourself, protect your family. Leave Ridderth if you can. Better yet, leave Mabingion.” His expression turned steely. “Report on anything and everything as long as you can do it safely. Upload to the auxiliary reserve dataspace. We’ll find a way to broadcast it. People’s stories need to be told, now more than ever.” The holo version of Tapio reached for a control. “Be safe. Take care. We will be together again.” His last, weighted words were delivered with grave certainty.

The holo faded.

Arco stood and nodded to Nilsson, who was already standing. “Come on, let’s find—”

The office door opened to reveal Minan, with Tōn Ko and N’Dwama right behind her.

Arco stooped to pick up her bag. “You’ve all been great. I’ll give you all ten-star referrals and an early termination bonus. Go get your stuff and get out of here.”

Minan put her hands on her hips. “Where are we going?”

“We? I’m...” Arco shook her head. “I haven’t decided.”

“Not true,” said N’Dwama with the certainty of a sifter who could detect lies.

Arco frowned. “CPS interrogators can’t make you tell them what you don’t know.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “If media companies are targets and Novo G tops the hit parade, Pennington-Smythe is involved. She hates me. I’m a prime target, right after Tapio.”

Tōn Ko crossed his arms. “In that case, with Brenner on injured reserve, you need protection more than ever.”

Arco glared at them. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re all fired.” She slung her bag’s strap across her shoulder.

Nilsson, who’d been watching the conversation like it was a gravball match, cleared her throat. “Actually, you can’t fire us. We work for Novo G.”

Arco pulled her coat from the back of her chair. “Then you heard the boss’s orders. Protect yourself, protect your family. Scatter.” She waved her fingers. “Shoo.”