19
Before boarding the sub, I called Mr Mac and told him I needed a new ID.
“This is a tall order,” he said. “Given the time frame.”
“I doubt the Renewal management will talk to a PI or a small town cop.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The sub was a midget compared to the passenger transport that brought me to Salacia, a maintenance workhorse with articulated limbs and bubble canopies that made it resemble a giant mutant crab. The captain and sole crew member was a splice with similar mods to Phaedra, white pupils in black eyes and grey skin, though his had a touch of cobalt blue. “This is Erik,” Phaedra said as we clambered aboard. “Commanding Officer Salacia Military.”
“You have a military?” I asked.
“Sure,” Erik told me, white teeth shining in his blue-grey face. “Gotta have a militar
