“So, to answer Zed’s question,” he said, “there is no way anyone will get hurt. The satellites will burn as soon as they drop out of orbit. That’s how they make satellites these days, to reduce pollution and prevent espionage. And none of these satellites serve any purpose other than surveillance. I triple-checked.”

Sol rose from the floor. “Okay, you’ve answered all our questions about the details of the plan, but what’s the purpose? Theo wanted to shit on his old job. I get that. I want to shit on my current job. But what’s this about? What does this do for us? We’re already legends.”

“We’re not legends,” Zed said. “No one really knows why we did what we did back in June. The hashtag was a joke, and beyond a few activists, it’s been forgotten. I followed it on social all summer. If we do this, they still won’t know why, but they’ll at least know we made our mark.”

Apollo nodded. Zed was starting to understand the vision. He doubted she believed, though. She was so hung up on collateral damage and accidents, as if accidents were even possible with his level of organization. He’d encrypted their phones, anonymized their devices, scrambled IP logs, created scores of fake profiles for every single time he’d had to hit the forums for know-how. He had a VPN inside of his VPN, paid for with a cryptocurrency that didn’t even have a name. And they still hadn’t been caught after the tag on Stone Mountain. If that wasn’t legend status, what was?

“You sound like Theo,” Sol said, twirling a lock in her finger. “We desecrated a Confederate monument. The Confederate monument. Desecration is my shit, you know this. But you have to admit that this is extra.”

“It’s not extra, Sol,” Zed said. “It’s the real moment. We can’t go around tagging our whole lives. That’s extra.”

A spiteful click skeeted from Sol’s teeth. “Bitch, we’re graffing, like, two weeks from now. Extra is your life.” She laughed.

Apollo watched Zed closely. When she felt embarrassed or defeated, she produced the tiniest sigh, a whiffed huff that pressed the air like a kiss. He hadn’t heard it yet, but she looked flustered. Maybe she really did believe. Maybe he should speak.

“Bitch, I hate you,” Zed finally snorted.

Apollo’s face collapsed into his palm.