51: Deva
Deva
Deva adjusted the ear-piece and moved the mic closer to her mouth. “You hear me, Kee?”
“Like you’re in this thing with me.”
“Wouldn’t be space.”
“Still good to have you here. Nice job on the bird.”
“You doubted me?”
“Not for a moment.”
Deva smiled. That almost sounded genuine.
And she was pleased with her work on the old Ion. Lise said it needed to look rough, like it would fall apart any moment, but solid underneath. And that made sense—didn’t really matter what the outside looked like, so long as internals were true.
Deva sat in a room off the deck, Lise and Wrench at other desks, each with their own terminal, talking on their comms. Lise hadn’t called it a command centre, but that’s pretty much what it was.
Wrench worked with a few buddies—ground crew and on
