20
They changed out of their formal wear into white suits.
Miloschenko’s ship was waiting for them on the roof of the event center.
The ship was a large silver pioneer ship, the kind of ship meant for exploration and observation rather than war. It reminded Florian of a silver fish. A purple beacon glowed on the underside of one of the wings.
A group of Macalestern employees was waiting for them on the roof, dressed in their telltale white suits with black diagonal stripes across the chest.
Miloschenko stepped out of the airlock and pointed at Florian’s employees.
“Who are they?” he asked.
“They’re my team,” Florian said.
“Screw your team.”
“Tavin, Tavin, Tavin,” Florian said. “You know as well as I do that one cannot execute by himself. I’m the idea guy, just like you. My team he
