The first time the registry hiccuped, no one blamed the code.
On Patrol Grid Seven, a pair of Orion officers had just finished a routine sweep of a market district when their wrist consoles flashed a red priority ping.
NEW ANOMALY CLUSTER DETECTED.
POSSIBLE UNREGISTERED DEVIANT ACTIVITY.
LOCATION: BLOCK 19‑E, ROOFTOP LEVEL.
They exchanged a look.
"Rooftops," Kade muttered. "Always rooftops."
Her partner snorted behind his visor.
"Maybe the Deviants like the view," he said.
They diverted, boots ringing on the metal walkway as the system projected a pulsing route arrow ahead of them.
Block 19‑E was an old residential stack wedged between a shield pylon and an elevated rail. Half the apartments were sealed, half illegally sublet. Perfect ground, according to the registry, for Deviants who did not want to be seen.
Kade felt the familiar prickle along her spine as they pushed through the stairwell door.
It smelled like damp concrete and old cooking oil.
