Apparently a cosmic power that gave her incredible insights didn’t help her grasp my sarcasm. Or she was just acting like it didn’t to annoy me. Probably the second.

She said, “Your tinker is about to start making her thing to jab in my eye. Until then I’m at my computer in the kichen, watching the same feeds you are, making coffee.”

Shin capes at the Station?

“Yeah.”

I don’t know how far this goes. How far until she breaks or something goes tits up.

“Wish I could tell you. I’m working with limited information here. Going to pull my team together, situate your kid to get all the information possible, and I’ll use that information to put together a better picture. Good?”

I don’t know if it’s good. I’m worried this isn’t it. That this latest Panacea fuckup is going to distract us from whatever the real problem is. Kenzie said you felt the same way.

“Yeah,” Tattletale said. I could hear her sigh. She fell silent. I could see from Candy’s point of view that Darlene had passed through the kitchen, where Tattletale stood by the counter, laptop perched there, her attention on the coffee machine.

Not wanting to talk if she could get caught talking to me. I could appreciate that she had a good sense about that stuff.

“Let me get the eye thing, and we’ll see what we can do as a collaborative thing,” Tattletale said.

Okay.

Armstrong had risen from his seat. Another guy had joined Larue and Eric, leaning over the table.

The tone of the room had changed. I’d been so sucked into that video feed in front of me and the space around and behind me where people might be looking over my shoulders that I hadn’t noticed.

Citrine. Mayor Jeanne Wynn, with two people in her company, presumably Wardens.

I watched through Kenzie’s feed as she passed through the kitchen again, carting stuff this way and that. Checking a box.

Tattletale spoke, “Your kid says Citrine just showed.”

Yeah.

Kenzie was altering the video and sound feeds. What I was seeing of her milling around was what others were seeing. But she was telling Tattletale stuff and getting her up to speed, presumably.

I’d have been a bit spooked if it wasn’t so useful.

Citrine took the seat at the end of the table that faced the screens.

“Do you need anything?” Armstrong asked.