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The name doesn’t mean anything to me, although the Aterra are one of the Founding Families .

“I need you to tell me how you got here, Kein.”

And give me time to figure out what the fuck to do next.

“We left Jielt on schedule, sir. We only ran into trouble when we got to the Clouds. They said the manifest for the devices was wrong. We didn’t have the right clearance or something.

We called back to Base, like we’re supposed to.

Base told us to wait, that they’d work it out with the Tiv Port Authority.

They held us for over twelve hours, sir.

It wasn’t our fault—” His voice rises, nearly breaks.

I wave off his panic. “No one’s blaming you. Just tell me what happened.”

“By the time we were cleared through, we’d missed the window.

The Advance Team was already gone. We called in to Base again.

We told them we only had half the numbers for the mission.

I heard Steurler tell them, sir. But they green-lighted us anyway.

They gave us the coordinates and the access codes for a second penetration point.

There was a little resistance at the second point, a few of the Debased, but we overcame them.

We got down into the tunnel but there was a Debased waiting for us, like it knew we were coming.

It sounded an alarm before we took it down.

Steurler told us to push through and get the devices set.

Rayaz took his team further down the tunnel to cover us.

They came under heavy fire. Steurler ordered me and Perry forward to help Rayaz’s team and the next thing I knew the tunnel was collapsing all around us.

I must have been hit by a rock... I don’t remember anything else before waking up in here.

We didn’t know they’d do that, sir. Destroy their own tunnels.

Sacrifice their own people.” He rubs his hand over his head.

“I’m sorry, sir. I know we failed. I’m so sorry.

I just want you to know that I didn’t tell them anything. ”

I nod at him, still thinking.

“Sir?” he asks hesitantly. “How did you know I was here? I didn’t give them my name or number, I swear.”

“We’ve got you tracked,” I say, hoping that the Ojos haven’t had their trackers removed. “Tyng takes care of its own.”

The kid bows his head. “Yes, sir. I’m grateful, sir. ”

“Who’d you report to in Jielt? I want a word with whomever green-lighted this fuck-up.”

“B, sir.”

The name sparks a memory. A man who shook my hand too hard, too long at the Gold Ball-Ball.

“Right. I’m going to have a word with B. You hang tight. I’m going to negotiate you out of here, but I’m gonna need some time.” To figure out what the fuck this all means. “You need anything?”

“A flash can, sir.”

Yeah, I bet his bowels are a little loose. “I’ll make sure you have what you need.”

His shoulders sag. He leans back against the stone wall behind him, slides down it, and folds himself onto the floor.

I turn away from the security membrane and walk back into Acker’s laser stare.

“Not here,” I tell him as I approach.

I don’t know how this is going to go, but I don’t want to do it in front of his guard. And I want to give Acker a few moments to start thinking instead of reacting.

“Follow me,” Acker growls.

I follow him up two levels and into the room where we stored my gear.

At least if he comes at me now, I’ve got plenty of weapons to choose from.

I center myself and wait. The trick to dealing with Acker is not to get defensive.

Act guilty and his paranoia escalates into aggression. Probably true of me, too.

Acker paces around the small room, the fur of his shoulders rippling. I let him pace. Finally, I say, “Let’s hear it.”

He turns and snarls. “You funded the attacks on my people.”

“Looks that way.”

He stops and glares at me, fur bristling, nostrils flaring as he drags deep breaths into his lungs.

“Will hittin’ me make you feel better?” I ask.

“No. But killing you and Lightfoot might appease the families of the dead.” He clenches his fists at his sides.

“Do what you gotta do.”

He knows I’m not going to let him hurt either of us. What I will let him do is blow off steam.

He flexes his claws. “I need to understand this.”

“Me, too. Best I can figure is that Tyng was fundin’ the Ojos. But I got no idea why. Tyng himself wasn’t a Mod, but there’s nothin’ in the files that suggests he was anti-Mod, either. Company employs plenty of Mods, right up to the highest levels.”

Acker touches his claws to his face, runs his hands through his mane until it spikes wildly around his head. “Then why fund the Ojos?”

I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“The Crystal Snake has long desired to move his poison through our tunnels. If the Ojos succeeded in annihilating my people, there would be no impediment.”

“Yeah. I can see how that woulda been Kimpler’s plan. But it wasn’t Tyng’s. He sent his son to Kuus to negotiate with the Pack. If he was anti-Mod, he wouldn’t have sent his kid in there.”

Acker nods. “Yes. I see that.”

Good, he’s thinking again. “I can’t figure why Tyng would fund the Ojos. But now I got a name.”

“B.” Acker shrugs. “Not much of a name.”

“Yeah, but I know who he is.” I don’t remember his title, but I remember the name well enough. “An’ I know where he is. Jielt.”

“Convenient.”

In that it takes me and Kez out of the Clouds. “You got any doubts, come with me. You’re head of SoBo security. Strictly speakin’, this is your problem.”

Acker scowls at me. I scowl back.

“Very well.” Acker flexes his shoulders. I bet they’re stiff. He looks a lot calmer than when we walked into this little room, though. Not getting defensive was the right play.

“Sure you don’t want to take a shot at me?” I offer. “Last chance.”

Acker half-heartedly punches my shoulder .

“Pathetic,” I say.

Acker grabs the shoulder he punched. Puts his other arm out.

“You ever tell anyone I let you hug me, I’ll rip out your spine,” I tell him.

Acker chuckles as he hugs me hard.