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"
"
And
the
second
interesting
thing
?
"
"
Yeah
.
Covert
needlecast
to
a
receiver
in
Europe
every
eighteen
hours
.
Can
’
t
tell
you
much
more
than
that
without
Dipping
it
,
and
I
figured
you
wouldn
’
t
want
that
just
yet
.
But
it
looks
like
what
we
’
re
after
.
"
I
remembered
the
spider
-
like
automatic
guns
and
leathery
impact
-
resistant
womb
sacs
,
the
sombre
stone
guardians
that
supported
the
roof
of
Kawahara
’
s
basilica
,
and
I
found
myself
once
more
smiling
in
response
to
those
contemptuous
hooded
smiles
.
"
Well
,
then
.
"
I
looked
around
at
the
assembled
team
.
"
Let
’
s
get
this
gig
off
the
ground
.
"
It
was
Sharya
,
all
over
again
.
We
dusted
off
from
the
tower
of
the
Hendrix
an
hour
after
dark
and
swung
away
into
the
traffic
-
speckled
night
.
Ortega
had
pulled
the
same
Lock
-
Mit
transport
I
’
d
ridden
out
to
Suntouch
House
,
but
when
I
looked
around
the
dimly
lit
interior
of
the
ship
’
s
belly
,
it
was
the
Envoy
Command
attack
on
Zihicce
that
I
remembered
.
The
scene
was
the
same
;
Davidson
playing
the
role
of
datacom
officer
,
face
washed
pale
blue
by
the
light
from
his
screen
;
Ortega
as
medic
,
unpacking
the
dermals
and
charging
kit
from
a
sealwrap
bag
.
Up
ahead
in
the
hatchway
to
the
cockpit
,
Bautista
stood
and
looked
worried
,
while
another
mohican
I
didn
’
t
know
did
the
flying
.
Something
must
have
shown
on
my
face
,
because
Ortega
leaned
in
abruptly
to
study
my
face
.
"
Problem
?
"
I
shook
my
head
.
"
Just
a
little
nostalgia
.
"
"
Well
,
I
just
hope
you
got
these
measures
right
.
"
She
braced
herself
against
the
hull
.
In
her
hand
,
the
first
dermal
looked
like
a
petal
torn
from
some
iridescent
green
plant
.
I
grinned
up
at
her
and
rolled
my
head
to
one
side
to
expose
my
jugular
.
