Kaelen exhaled. Behind her, the Nexus-7 displayed a new image: a crude, pixelated drawing of a heart.
A runner named Six came to her door—an old food storage container retrofitted with a soldering bench and a shrine of orphaned hard drives. Six was young, with oil under his nails and a Panasonic Digi-Cam fused to his left eye socket. He carried something wrapped in a heating blanket: a black mirror the size of a palm. Kaelen exhaled
The Hauler scanned the Nexus. Its systems saw the shim, the backport, the forged signature. By every technical measure, the drone was running a valid, secure, modern OS. Kaelen exhaled. Behind her
The Hauler paused. Its optical sensors rotated. the drone was running a valid