Ch. 39
"Who," Kikaru whispered, her voice dropping into a dangerous absolute, "is writing that to you?"
Commuters shoved past them on the concrete stairs. The morning rush of the lower sector operated without margins. A heavy-set man carrying a welding rig clipped Caleb's bruised right shoulder. The impact sent a dull ache grinding straight down to the bone. Caleb kept his boots planted.
Another worker, smelling of machine oil and cheap tobacco, shoulder-checked Kikaru. She stumbled. Her carbon-fiber leg brace clicked sharply against the edge of the step. She didn't look at the man. She kept her dark eyes locked entirely on the cracked glass of Caleb's visor module.
Caleb gripped the module and killed the screen. "Not here."
"That is restricted code," Kikaru demanded, raising her voice over the roar of an arriving mag-lev train. "That is a direct breach of the military—"
Caleb reached out with his left hand and grabbed the heavy wool sleeve of her academy jacket.
