(Why couldn’t the stupid raiders attack at night?) I had drones in the air, giving me camera views of both decks of this stupid boat, so I knew this part of the stern was empty. The daylight was bright, the air clear, and I felt exposed. I broke the surface quietly, stretched and caught the railing, and pulled myself up. I swam out from under the stern, careful to avoid the propulsion device. Arada said Oh SecUnit, I wish you wouldn’t call people “targets” and Thiago had given me the look that usually means It just wants an excuse to kill someone.)īut then, that was before the Potential Targets started to brandish their own large projectile-weapon collection.Īnyway, those are the kind of things I think about while I’m swimming under a raider vessel that’s attempting to board our sea research facility. (That’s “potential” per the earlier conversation where Dr. Which was why Arada was pressed against the wall next to the hatch to the open observation deck with her palms sweating on the stock of a projectile weapon and Thiago was standing out on said observation deck, trying to reason with a potential target.
Thiago was firmly in the “Let’s investigate the dark cave without that pesky SecUnit” group. Arada, who is what her marital partner Overse calls a “terminal optimist,” was somewhere in the comfortable middle zone.
(And I’m talking absurd even by my standards, and my code was developed by a bond company known for intense xenophobic paranoia, tempered only by desperate greed.) I’ve also had clients who thought they didn’t need any security at all, right up until something ate them. I’ve had clients who thought they needed an absurd level of security.
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