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She’d been dreaming, so when she heard Rodin’s voice, Paskia thought she was still asleep. But he smelt of outside, and when he spoke there was none of the tenderness of the Brodie in her dreams.
His words hit home, and she sat up. “What kind of problem?”
“Read.” He thrust a screen at her, a message displayed. She read.
“All communications compromised? Must be, if she’s calling for a blackout.”
“Yep. Need to sort something out.”
“Right.”
She’d already pushed the bedding aside, and now she pulled on her boots—there would be time to shower and change later. “Wake the others,” she said.
Rodin nodded, went around the room, rocking the lumps of bedding—Uran and Gorrin. Vanya and Irazette were out on patrol.
“Need to tell the other two,” she said.
“Can’t,” he said as Ura
