They went through their communications check as they walked to the elevator that accessed the upper stories. Encrypted channels went to each other and everyone on the assignment. The public feeds had picked up on their activity, too, and people spread the word that they were on the move. Welga waved at the swarm above them and nudged Ammanuel to do the same.

As the elevator doors closed, the car deployed its own privacy defenses. Any microdrone that didn’t have her or Ammanuel’s signature fell to the floor, taken out by an equally small targeting device. The rest of the world had to wait until they returned to a less exclusive area.

They stepped out into a receiving room with glass-blown ornaments and life-size statues of Hindu deities. Connor stood in front of an ornately carved rosewood door. Their three camera swarms merged and swirled above their heads like gnats greeting long-lost friends. Briella Jackson emerged, her expression blank and glazed under the influence of flow. She blinked rapidly, wiped at the air in front of her, and then focused on Welga.

Then, to Welga’s astonishment, Jackson held out a manicured hand, shaking each of theirs in turn. Clients had no reason to acknowledge their presence and usually ignored their shields.

“Thank you for being here. You all look wonderful,” Jackson said, measuring the pace of her words with care.

Is she on the same zip as us? As they walked her to the elevator, Jackson’s strides picked up speed along with theirs. I’ll be damned. That made two firsts for one of their clients. Made sense that a funder would want to advertise their product, but few did.

They exited at the rear of the building. Tips began to trickle in from viewers as soon as they emerged. Sultry heat enveloped them like dragon breath. They strode toward the car waiting at the curb.

The street teemed with people and vehicles. Some hauled laden baskets on their backs, others rode motorbikes. Trailer-bots and auto-trucks in primary colors blared coded horns as they navigated the crowd. Two stray brown cows twitched their tails and lounged on the shoulder. A cylindrical, matte-gray bot rolled down the street toward them, its outline showing red in Welga’s visual. The tag OPPORTUNITY FOR ALL floated above it.

In the lead, Welga drew her weapon and shot it. The bot shattered. Its shards dissolved into a pile of blox on the street. They climbed into the car.

“That was easy.” Ammanuel’s voice sounded in Welga’s ear, and the words appeared in their team channel. Their lips, however, barely moved.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘boring,’ ” Welga countered. She subvocalized, too, so their chatter didn’t distract their client. “Notice the small tips, for us and the group that sent the bot. That’s why they’re a low-ranking prote in spite of their message. Let’s hope the others do better.”