“I accepted the assignment a couple hours ago. Spent most of that getting here.” The back of my mouth still ached, so I took another sip of water. “And helping with Tansi. Sir.”
“Not your fault. Fine.” An air handler kicked on, and Watford raised his voice slightly. “Montague controls Ring Three. We have our own datacore, our own medical, our own barracks. No HR, one administrator for paperwork. We have a little space on each of the other rings. Our datacore talks to theirs, but it’s heavily filtered. You can make calls and appointments and simple queries. And you’ll be doing a lot of that.”
Appointments? An alien universe, and I’ll have appointments?
“You get the dirty end of the stick, Redding.” Elbows on the laminated desktop, Watford steepled his fingers. “You’re going to be the poi
