65: Deva
Deva
Wrench contacted Chiron. Deva explained what had happened, what they knew. Chiron arranged an auto-buggy to pick them up—assured them it was safe, couldn’t be traced, but Deva didn’t care—it was warm and comfortable He’d even arranged new clothes and towels, a few ration bars and flasks of hot drinks.
The buggy took them to the outskirts of Avegen, where they joined a transit. It was basically a modified truck, with passenger seating and luggage containers in the rear.
Deva sat next to Chiron, gazing out through the viewing panel as they wove through the tight streets towards the dock area. Wrench sat in the seat behind, tapping away on his terminal. Every so often he looked up and smiled.
Relief, Deva reckoned. He’d survived the river. He’d escaped the agents. And n
