The wire’s different today—I’ve slotted an escrima chip instead of one for my H & K smartgun—but it still wants to kill Ranger. And that’s my excuse for snapping back, "More than you, drekhead." My hand slips into my jacket pocket. No firearms at councils—a rule applying even to bodyguards like Box (not that he needs firearms)—and some electronics I shouldn’t be carrying tell me that the ops room has hardware built into the door frame to detect smuggled holdouts.