Madriko.
That was the name she was supposed to use. It meant “sentinel” in the ancient Tareli language. Her birth name had been f*******n to her, cast aside as a remnant of an old life, only to be reclaimed when their work was done. Shindraso had been quite firm on that point. She was to think of herself as Madriko. Only as Madriko. She was a weapon in the service of the Prime Council. Nothing more.
The briefing room he had selected looked very much like a classroom from her college days. White tables were set up in rows, facing a screen of SmartGlass on the front wall. Shindraso stood there in his gray body armour, his face hidden behind a screen of mesh. She was to forget his real name and the face that went with it. Like her, he was a weapon. Nothing more.
The others were present as
