“Christ! They’d fire on private rockets?” Welga said.

“Can’t have people helping the Machinehood. Maybe we can get the ban lifted on the day of the launch window.”

“I’ll take the next sub-orb to San Francisco with Ramírez,” Olafson said, “so I can read Troit in.”

Rice shook her head. “Sub-orbs, flights, trains—nothing is running, and once the emergency constellation goes up, the terminals will be a mess of civilians. We’ll get Ramírez on a military transport. Once she arrives, you can use her radio to read him in remotely from here.”

“Can I get word to him that I’m coming?” Welga asked.

“Not easily. The temporary network will give only patchy access. He might not be able to connect. Better that you hurry there and surprise him.” She grasped Welga’s shoulder. “Go get your kit from procurement and follow the agency WAI’s directions to base. I don’t know what you’ll find off-world, but I’m authorizing you to use any means necessary to stop the Machinehood, if they’re up there.”

“Understood,” Welga said.

Olafson pulled her into a farewell hug. Welga threaded her way out of the room. As she walked to the elevators, she passed a dispenser. She reached out to scoop up some zips and came back empty-handed. She stopped and tapped at the screen to order more and refill her medical prescriptions. The WAI responded with an error message: “Unable to comply due to insufficient supply.”

Are you fucking joking? How am I supposed to fight without pills? Latent twitches rippled under her skin. She had maybe another hour before her problem became apparent to everybody, and that would create bigger problems. She had to get on the transport before that happened.

She went to procurement to get her radio, ammunition, space suit, and an emergency pack and discovered a line of others. The WAIs and bots working the facility moved slowly. They weren’t built to handle this level of demand. Welga noted the gear that others came away with. Quite a few must be headed overseas, including the team to the Maghreb. I’m sorry, Captain. I’m so fucking sorry, but I can’t go with them. The caliph gets to be someone else’s problem.

The weight of the decision to leave Earth landed on her. With the constant motion of the previous twenty-four hours, she’d had no time to absorb the enormity of what she was about to do. I’m going to outer space. And depending on what happened there, she might not make it back alive. She needed Nithya’s advice. What’ll happen if I go up there without zips? How bad will the withdrawal be? She had to stay functional. Someone in San Francisco must have stashed pills. Black-market garbage would be better than nothing.