“Seriously, someone’s going to point you out. You’re going to have to deal with it.”

“I know.”

“Tal?” Two Spot’s voice announced in her ear. “Just got notified. Mac Hanson stepped out back of the foundry to wheel in some metal stock. He says there’s a dead man under a pile of tarping that wasn’t there last night.”

“Roger that. Dead guy back of the foundry. On the way.” Talina sighed, shoveled as much as she could into her mouth, picked up her plate, and headed for the sink.

“Dead guy?” Dek asked. “Can I come along?”

“Sure.” She dumped the food, rinsed the plate, and belted on her pistol. Grabbing her hat, she clamped it onto her head. When she swirled her cape around her shoulders, it sent rainbows of color across the quetzal hide. As Dek hurried after her, she plucked her rifle from beside the door.

Outside, Dek locked the dome, and they set off down the graveled street. The first rays of Capella’s morning came streaking through the high clouds. On the shuttle field, a roar built, Kalico’s A-7 rising on thrusters to catch the light and curve off to the east.

“Headed to the Maritime Unit,” Dek said. “According to the rumor last night, IG Soukup wanted to see the site. Word is that he was a bit perturbed that it was a complete loss. Apparently he asked that Vik Lawrence accompany him on the way out to look at the wreckage so that he could get her testimony.”

They were passing The Jewel. Demon shifted in Talina’s gut when she walked on the spot where she’d killed Spiro.

Yeah, you’d have liked it if that bitch had blown my brains out, wouldn’t you?

Rocket, perched invisibly on her shoulder, chittered in delight. But then, his TriNA considered it simple justice.

A half block south, Talina led the way between the narrow gap to the stack yard behind the foundry. Here Hanson kept his raw metals on stands that his forklift could access. Small items were cast or drop-forged here. Hanson was in the process of building a larger foundry down at Corporate Mine on land adjacent to the smelter, which would allow him to cast even larger parts and frames.

Mac Hanson, Step Allenovich, and Raya Turnienko were standing just back from the line of pressure tanks full of fuel for the blast furnace. These came from Ollie Throlson’s oil wells out west of the Winds. For some things, like melting metal, solar cells just weren’t as efficient.

“What have we got, people?” Talina asked as she and Dek walked up.

Before the heavy pipe racks with their rollers and flat lengths of metal stock, a pile of tarps lay atop a duraplast crate.