The structure of the command center was a fragile illusion, a levee against a sea of data that threatened to sweep them under in visibility. The success of the ghost healer mission was a double-edged sword. Every life saved was a triumph. Every life saved was also a potential leak, a digital trail that could lead a curious human investigator to their mountain doorstep.
Lyra gazed up at the main holographic display, but no longer was it flooded with the septic patches of infection. Instead, it was a tremendous, intricate web of data streams—hospital networks, government health records, city archives, even death records. It was the circulatory system of human knowledge, and the pack had been an insidious, invisible virus within it, systematically rewriting the body's memory of its own sickn
