Tali chose the buses.
"Close south seal," she said. "Trap the feeders under the court. Blue stairs move up now."
Nobody asked her to repeat it.
Soma hit the utility control.
The south seal began to close.
Gas rolled toward Pip Daro.
Tali kept her eyes on the map.
"Three hundred on the stairs. Four hundred in the buses. Feeders loose in the rally approach spread beyond Ward Nine. Gas has one direction and a shutoff wheel."
Caleb's voice came through the east gate line, strained under steel.
"You picked."
"Yes."
"Then own it."
"I am. Hold your gate."
He held.
At Ward Nine, Nico Barr turned the shutoff wheel with both hands.
The old metal fought him. Rust peeled under his palms. Gas hissed past his boots and bent the rain around his knees.
One feeder snapped through the service gap.
It was the size of a large dog, built low, all jaw and jointed forelimbs. White route paint streaked its head where it had pushed under the stencil cart.
Nico kicked it in the mouth.
