I wonder how they'll kill me. The Co-Governors have already called me a rebel, a terrorist, and a detriment to modern society, and a bullet-proof one at that. Will they burn me? Electrocute me? Toss me into a nuclear reactor? All because my people wanted lower taxes.
-Dahlia Michaels from her prison cell, October 20th, 2175 CE
EVE COULDN'T TELL if Teth was sleeping or merely resting his eyes. His fingers were curled into fists near his knees, but his breathing was even, unbothered. Modesty's Revenge lurched, the Hop Drive somewhere deeper in the ship whirring and clicking as it recharged for another go. Eve had counted three Hops so far, though she wasn't entirely sure.
Mad had ordered Cal and Hermes to plot a long, winding, and sometimes backward approach to Hephaestus in order to mudd
