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that tech comes straight out of China, tacitly encouraged by the Chinese government. So, with that in mind, I’m looking for your recommendation for the best course of action. This is not an exercise or a drill. We have received a GSE–level signal: what is our response? Please be aware that the selection process for the Area Commanders begins right now.”
    For a moment there was silence. Then several voices cried out at once.
    Amber heard “Door–to–door!” and “Chinese ambassador!” cut through the hubbub.
    "Silence!” the General shouted. “One at a time!”
    There was another pause, lengthened by everyone waiting for everyone else, and then almost before she knew what she was doing Amber was speaking.
    “The darknet,” she said. Every eye in the room swung around to her. “The best intel is on the darknet,” she said. “We should look there.”
    The General stared at her. “The analysts will look at that,” he said, after a moment. “Something else?”
    More voices started, but Amber felt a rush of anger at the dismissal. She was the most experienced trainee in the room.
    “No, they won’t!” she said, raising her voice. The room fell silent. “The analysts don’t do the darknet properly, they haven’t got the profiles. They just see what everyone knows they can see.”
    "So?” the General said.
    “I – I’ve got the contacts,” Amber said quickly. “I’ve been building them for years, I know some pretty serious players. I could do it.”
    “What’s your name, soldier?” the General said, after a long moment.
    “Amber Marasini,” Amber said.
    “Marasini, when I want to chat to your inked up friends I’ll ask you.” There were a couple of laughs and Amber flushed. “Wasting time on illegal forums is not what we do here. Someone with sense, please.”
    She clenched her fists.
    “Amber,” Emily said.
    "Six litres of blue and some yellow,” she said. “Last year. I got the information from the darknet in San Francisco. I had to burn a long–term profile but that was one of the biggest ink–hauls on the west coast for years.”
    “Don’t you dare tell me how to do my job!” the General shouted, rising to his feet. “I ordered you to stop speaking!”
    Amber resisted the urge to reply to that. She was surprised to find that the man frightened her.
    “Get out of here, I want you patrolling on foot. Get to know the locals or something.”
    Amber felt her face start to burn. The anger boiled within her.
    “Out!” the General said.
    She stood quickly, said “Sir!” and pushed out, squeezing past people who did not make eye contact with her. As she passed through the door she heard the General say ‘too much red”. The laughter followed her out of the room.
    Amber strode back to the lift, left the building and went west on foot, seething. She moved quickly, shoving through the crowds where she needed to. When they saw her in time, people got out of the way, fear in their eyes. The overwhelming smell was exhaust fumes from ancient petrol vehicles, but Amber could also detect the scent of human shit. She crossed a small bridge over a thin river running between high wood and concrete buildings. The water was completely clogged with plastic bags, a mess of bright colours in the filthy water. Uncovered electrical wires hung low overhead, and she passed half–finished concrete monstrosities of buildings, the rusting ribbed bolts of cheap steel sticking out like bones into the polluted air.
    Despite appearances Kathmandu was a thriving tech centre, humming with robotics and barely–legal implants. It was widely known that the Chinese used it as a plausibly–deniable testing ground for their Technological Limitation Agreement–banned technologies and AIs.
    ITSA, despite substantial Chinese funding, at its heart still a pro–US agency, had struggled to contain the Kathmandu tech boom. It was now increasing its presence to try and stop or hinder the Chinese. Meanwhile, Amber