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“Can’t take much more of this,” Kester said as soon as Daventree closed the door to the maintenance store. “You know what Don’s doing, don’t you? Viction…”
Kester coughed, doubling over. His face was pale and lined, and his shirt showed stains around the collar, under his arms.
Daventree was sure he looked no better. Working under such intense observation had left him drained too.
“What about Viction?”
“You can’t tell?”
Daventree took a breath. “Humour me.”
“What?”
“I…need confirmation.”
`Kester nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He looked around, even though they were alone in the maintenance store, the door sealed. “Don wants us gone. He’s getting Viction to learn what we do so that he can take over. Probably get him to teach others.”
Daventree’s shoulders fell—this was the c
