78: Deva
Deva
Piran hadn’t answered.
Deva bit her lower lip. She pictured the plans of the Aethon, ran through what she remembered of the uncoupling procedure. There were fail-safes, security features to prevent the trailer coming loose in transit. Sensors monitored constantly.
She thought of the false alarm Piran had rigged in the museum. “Think I’ve got something.”
Brice stared ahead, at the growing lights. “Not much time left.”
“On it.”
She unclipped her harness and slipped from the chair.
Deva leaned against the door, forced it open, and squeezed out into the roar. Stone buildings rushed past, far too close.
The door slammed as soon as Deva let go. She grabbed the stair-rail and clambered down. Below, the road ran like liquid. Fumes and noise smothered her.
She ducked behind
