Page 43 of Warrior’s Mate

"We're already moving it."

"No. Not just the clinic. The agricultural academy. Half the students there are sixteen to twenty, and the north dormitory has two hundred apprentices. Their records are public because they're registered for food allotments and transit."

Kaiven went silent.

"Kaiven?"

"I'm sending a team."

"They won't get there in time if they use the military roads."

"Then tell me another way."

The request came without resistance. No lecture. No rank. Maelis pulled up the district utility map. "There's a drainage spine behind the seed laboratory. It crosses under the academy's east wall. Your people can enter through pump access seven."

"Width?"

"Enough for one armored person at a time."

"That is not what I asked."

"One-point-two meters."

"Better."

She heard him relay orders to someone else, using her route as if it had always belonged on his tactical map. That should not have mattered as much as it did.

"We're continuing west," she said. "The Sargans know the obvious exits."

"Agreed."

"You agreed quickly."

"I'm learning."

Despite everything, a laugh escaped her. Then a new signal flashed red across the lower corner of her display. One of the civilian groups she had diverted earlier had begun transmitting again. Not voice. Location only. The marker moved east. Maelis frowned. "That isn't right."

"What?"

"South orchard group. They were supposed to hold below Orchard Ridge. Their tracker is moving toward the highway."

"Could they have changed route?"

"Not without telling me."

The marker moved again, too fast for people walking. A vehicle, she realized; then a second family beacon appeared beside it, followed by a third, all of them moving together. Maelis's mouth went dry.

"They're on a transport."

Kaiven's tone changed. "Can you identify it?"

"Civilian trackers aren't designed for that. Wait." She stripped away the individual signals and overlaid traffic sensors. Most of the highway grid was dead. One agricultural weigh station still reported mass automatically.

A heavy vehicle had crossed it three minutes ago. Not Farseek registry.

"Sargan," she said.

Kaiven swore softly. The family beacons continued east toward the old produce port.