The Hacker's workshop was in the back of a dead bakery in Sector Five.
The bakery had not produced bread in eleven years. The ovens were still in the front room behind a chain-link partition. They sat cold and clean and unmarked by dust, which told Caleb either that she dusted them on purpose or that nothing in this building dared settle on anything she did not want it to.
She had left the door unlocked for him.
She did not look up when he came in.
The workbench under the back window was a horseshoe of monitors, soldering tools, a coffee setup that had been used more than a coffee setup in a hostile workshop usually was, and a kettle that had been disassembled into seven labeled pieces along a strip of clean white tape.
The Hacker was at the bench with a magnifier lamp pulled down to two inches over the kettle base.
"Took you twenty-six minutes from the PR wing," she said. "You walked."
"I'm not stepping into a cab tonight."
