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The island was about five hundred metres in diameter, and as far as surveillance allowed them to determine, there was only one structure on Givors Island—Wagner’s residence, accessible exclusively by air. Unless, of course, anyone fancied a swim in the river’s current, which could easily reach ten kilometres per hour.

And now, barely an hour after Eloise had been dropped off, the Harpy landed right outside Wagner’s residence, the airtaxi driver far more relaxed on the posh landing pad than he had been in the slums.

‘All right, let’s do this,’ Gonzalez announced on an open frequency, his voice carrying clearly to all earpiece nano-receivers they had in use. ‘Ms Moretti, remember to stay calm. This is no different than your VRPs. Just do as we discussed and practised. If something goes wrong Lieutenant Rivas will have you out in no time.’

‘Copy,’ a very subdued voice replied.

‘Banshee, do not land until instructed.’ Gonzalez had changed his frequency to speak only with Ingram; there was no point distracting Eloise.

‘Copy.’ Ingram’s voice sounded nice and clear, the soft hum of her Stealthy, circling leisurely above the island, barely noticeable. Her mind was split between wanting to be on the ground, able to provide support in real time, versus having the Stealthy’s armaments at her disposal. At least she was in Lyon.

There was no grudge discernible in Gonzalez’s voice, but Ingram knew how badly he wished he could have been out there himself rather than issuing orders from Roc de Chere. Sadly, the times of commanding officers charging along with their troops right into the thick of battle were largely a thing of the past, courtesy of the excellent, real-time communication that could cover much longer distances than the mere hundred and fifty kilometres dividing Lyon and Roc de Chere.

‘Anything from Megan?’ Ingram enquired.

‘No,’ Gonzalez replied. ‘Wagner didn’t take her with him after Moretti’s call. Presumably she stayed at the 4th, and with Wagner gone she should have no trouble evacuating.’

He didn’t add that if she had done so, they would probably have heard from her via Tilly by now.

Ingram wracked her brain for something encouraging to say, but there was nothing.

***

‘Here we go,’ Rivas announced, binoculars pressed against the bridge of his nose, watching as the door to the residence opened and Wagner himself walked down the magnificent, old-fashioned marble staircase.

‘Ms Moretti!’ Wagner exclaimed eagerly, stepping forward briskly but never abandoning his lofty Elite mannerisms.

He looks rushed, harried even, Eloise thought, grabbing at the facts with desperate determination. And then the mantra she had been repeating to herself ever since she had left Roc de Chere started automatically at the back of her mind. Just a VRP, Eloise, this is just a VRP you’re play-testing. Nothing more. Play-testing and watching character subroutines. Wagner’s subroutine. Keep taking notes. He looks tired. See the dark bags under his eyes? He’s been under pressure. But he didn’t look up to check the airspace when he stepped out. He feels safe here. That’s good, he doesn’t suspect anything yet.

Eloise was still upset with Gonzalez’s decision not to let her practise with a VR Wagner, but now it was starting to make sense.

VR isn’t something I need practice with—real people are. And Rivas, despite his irritating attitude, is good at his job, dammit.

‘Mr Wagner.’ Eloise nodded, hurrying towards him. And then she paused, awkwardly staring at his outstretched arms.

It was one thing she categorically refused to do. Rivas had insisted she should throw herself onto Wagner, sobbing into his shoulder, but she just couldn’t. She had pushed her luck with that police officer outside the clinic, and now, having had time to stress even more in the airtaxi, she knew she couldn’t do it again.

It made no sense why any type of body contact with another human being would turn her insides inside out, but it just did. Period. In VR she had no problem with it—heck, she actually liked it in VR. Massages, cuddles, sex, you name it. In real life it was an insurmountable obstacle. The longer she had tried, the weaker she had felt, until she had eventually thrown a tantrum of epic proportions not even Gonzalez could stifle.

In the end, Gonzalez relented, allowing her to do it however it felt natural. And hell, there was nothing natural about awkwardly hugging her own ribs while ignoring Wagner’s outstretched arms, but there was a flicker of memory in Wagner’s eyes and that was good.

Wagner clearly remembered how shit-awkward she had been back at the 4th, and Gonzalez, watching the scene through a cam’s feed, nodded in approval. Eloise was right on that one. Her peculiarities were so pronounced that she had just reassured Wagner in a fraction of a second that she really was Eloise Moretti, not an impostor.

The thought that Wagner might consider her a nano-transformed impostor had crossed Gonzalez’s mind, but he had dismissed it. It was unheard of to perform such a transformation in less than ten days, and anything quicker than about two weeks was hideously unpleasant, and that assumed that the nanobots were pre-programmed and ready. Gonzalez hadn’t even met Eloise until seven days ago, so any attempt at a rushed nano-transformation was likely to have been lethal to the wannabe impostor. Still, it was good to see Wagner reject that highly impossible option.

‘I want to get inside.’ Eloise nodded jerkily towards the door, and someone, probably Ingram, snorted in Gonzalez’s earpiece. It was tempting to assume that good manners had abandoned Eloise due to stress, but really the woman just had no interest in saying please. Ever.

‘Of course,’ Wagner replied, and gestured at his ridiculously extravagant mansion. ‘Please, after you.’ He half-bowed, his predatory attitude on hold while his well-practised charm oozed out.

***

‘Final check,’ Gonzalez demanded, watching Eloise climb the stairs.

‘Airspace clear… on my sensors,’ Ingram confirmed, suppressing a wince at the qualifier. It looked clear to her Stealthy’s passive sensors, but just as she wasn’t going to light up on anyone else’s display, there was no way of knowing whether

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