Auren Han pulls off his glasses, rubs his eyes, wants a cigarette.
That’s going, he thinks, on my tombstone. Bad Guy who tried to be good buried here. He wanted a cigarette.
He thought he was moving pretty fast, sending Simon – whatever else you want to say, he’s about as fast as they get – to drop like a stone through the Jimtown archives.
And they saw him coming.
The employment databank, he realizes, is being purged before his eyes, right there in the feed.
As fast as Simon can crack the access codes, the shallow data graves are turning up empty, one after the other.