“Cass,” I say quietly. “Scroll back six months.”
He does. MAINT-CAL-99 entries thin out. Before that, nothing. Sel A’s been upgrading Dock Seven’s veins for half a year. Slow. Patient.
“Forward,” I say.
He scrolls. The entries get more frequent as they approach current day. The last one is from two days ago. The next is scheduled… my gut drops… for six hours from now.
“I need that schedule,” I say.
“Already on it,” Cassian murmurs.
He copies the block, shoves it into a buried file labelled something boring and tax-related.
My ring pulses at the future timestamp, like it feels the approaching shape of the web flaring.
“Nyra,” Kaien’s voice comes soft in my ear. “Update.”
“Sel A’s paying Dock Seven for ‘maintenance calibrations’ on the Veins,” I say. “Codename MAINT-CAL-99. It’s th
