4
“FL,” I murmured, reading through Corvin’s record on the pipe. The four of us were alone in the carriage as it blasted through the network towards Yang Sixteen, all chafing a little at the body-armour under our clothes. No matter how flexible and lightweight they make it, armour always itches.
“Boss?” Leyla asked.
“Fraud and larceny,” I said. “Corvin does his six months, gets released five days ago, somehow gets himself spliced into shifter mode in the interim, then decides to kill Rybak.”
“Guess the corrective immersion didn’t take,” Joe said.
“Still seems way out of character.” I scrolled through Corvin’s history, finding numerous counts of fraud but no violence. “He was a short-con grifter. Glomming onto wealthy Yin-siders, selling bogus investments. Pretty good at it too, they s
