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Paskia didn’t know how much time had passed. She could have read the chrono on the screen, but her attention was fixed on the feeds. And the map Uran had called up, the one on which he plotted any incident they caught.
It wasn’t all of them, of course. There was still far too much Paskia didn’t know.
All she could do was work with what she had. Wasn’t that one of Cat’s lessons? Nothing was ever perfect. All anyone could do was make the best with whatever was at hand. He’d phrased it far more eloquently than that, of course, but the message was the same.
“Any idea how many warriors are based in the Factory?” she asked, looking up, trying not to direct her gaze toward Rodin. But he knew the question was for him.
“Not a clue. Assume a lot.”
As if that was any help.
As if tha
