“What the hell was in your report?” snarled Tweedledum. It could have easily beenhimbreaking into that office.
Or me, I realized belatedly.
Something had been built into the dog’s back. A kind of weapon. I didn’t recognize it.
The not-dog tottered after Tweedledee. It moved with the unhurried gait of an artificial creature that had never known fear nor anger nor urgency.
And then the something on its backfired.
I turned away the moment I saw Tweedledee stagger and hit the wall. I didn’t need those images in my brain—I already had plenty of nightmares. But I could still hear the soft gasp from Warden as her asset’s life signs vanished.
For a few moments, no one said a word.
“Are we—are we going to get him?” asked Tweedledum.
“No need,” said Warden.
I leaned against the van wall, closing my eyes. Nothing would link Tweedledee to the Identity Security Division. That was the whole point of using wraiths: plausible deniability. To Stenc, this man would simply be an intruder caught by the security system.
Tweedledum’s breathing did not slow. His eyes were wide, sweat dampening the hair at his brow.“That was a rail gun,” he said. His hand went to his own chest, as though feeling a phantom pain. “That was a damn miniature rail gun.”
“That’s what our CEO stole?” I asked. “The designs for arobot dog rail gun?”
I wasn’t a weapons expert by any means, but I’ve always had a short attention span, an internet connection, and a tendency to get sucked into research deep dives. All I knew about rail guns was that they didn’t need explosives or propellants to shoot a projectile. The US military had been trying to implement them on its warships for years, but there were issues with energy and cooling. If someone had finally managed to build a weaponized, miniature version, and then Stenc had stolen it… well, no wonder we were here. This was our opportunity to get our hands on that tech without anyone ever tracing it to ISD or the feds.
“He wasn’t supposed to have built it yet,” said Warden. Her face was so pale that her freckles stood out sharply. “Our mole said he hadn’t sent the files to his design team.”
“Well, he built it,” said Prefect. “Your source was misled.”
Warden flicked her fingers, activating her ringware. “Attempt One, unsuccessful,” she said. “Asset 072424 has been neutralized.”
Her voice was so cool that it made me feel sick.
“What was his name?” I asked Tweedledum.
He swallowed audibly. “Manny,” he said.
Warden crossed her arms. “Unfortunate, but we still have assets. We’ll try again.”
Humanity has spent thousands of years perfecting security systems.
Moats, guards, laser trip wires—they’re all for the same purpose. To keep oneself safe and to protect one’s wealth.
But even the best security system has one flaw.
People.
Warden said that Tweedledum would make his attempt that night. He asked if he could leave a letter for his family—and that request was denied.
Which only solidified my own plans.
At noon, I made my move.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I said. We had been going to a gas station two blocks away.
“Go ahead,” said Prefect, sliding the van door open.
I emerged from the van, wearing my plumber’s jumpsuit and carrying a toolbox. The toolboxes came with the van, just in case we needed to actually look like plumbers. I strolled down the sidewalk, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. I did not head toward the gas station; rather, I veered across the street. I darted into the alleyway beside Stenc’s building. Here, I was out of view of the security cameras.
