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computer in the registrar’s office to the one in Silas’s lab without using the monitored fiber-optic lines. With it, they’d have the distance to remain blameless, if not anonymous.
    The rest of their tools—lock picks, camera spray, smartphone-to-glass technology adapter, and DNA-destroying wipes—were assembled on the coffee table beside them. They were waiting for him, and Silas tried to concentrate as Peri looked over his and Summer’s apartment, the smart woman learning more about him than he was comfortable with.
    Anyone could tell he and Summer had been together a long time. The two-room flat was a pleasant mix of him and her, no clashing of styles but a comfortable, easy “us.” That Summer might someday put things in boxes and leave to work with someone other than him was terrifying. Who did the complete set of Lord of the Rings DVDs belong to? Who would keep the glasses, each chip having a story to tell? The towels on the rack she had insisted were too expensive? Who retained the picture of them at the amusement park, and who would have an empty spot on their coffee table?
    He squinted at the unexpected anxiety, exhaling when Summer shifted the light. This has to work , he thought as he tried the new angle Summer had suggested. I can’t lose her because I’m too good at my job.
    The sliding sound of Peri putting the picture of them in the bumper cars back on the coffee table seemed to rake across his soul. Her expression was as tight as his, as if she were seeing something from her past in their happy faces. “My dorm has a three a.m. curfew,” she said, giving the picture a last nudge to put it precisely where it had been. “If I’m not back by then, it will raise a flag.”
    Summer shifted on the seat beside him, uneasy. “Just go,” she said, and Silas’s grip on her wrist tightened at the heartache in her eyes, the clear blue of them lost behind the ring of black camouflage. “I’ll stay here. Keep your back door open.”
    Allen looked up from his phone, using it like a mirror to apply the same facial recognition deterrent around his eyes. “You think three of us can do this?” he asked, handing the smut stick to Peri, who capped it off and dropped it into her waist pack.
    â€œWe won’t have to,” Silas said, fighting the tension. “I just need . . . there.” He slumped as he finally got the circuit cleared and was able to pull the chipped bracelet from Summer’s arm. “You’re good,” he said as he put it next to the speaker where Allen’s wristband lay. The faint thump of the electronic dance music would give the impression of a pulse, and the work light hanging over it would keep it at body temperature. It was their window of opportunity and their alibi all at once.
    â€œI’m not a dog to be chipped.” Allen stood, shrugging into his black jacket and checking the ties on his boots. “Thanks, Silas.”
    â€œNo problem.” Silas stood as well, but his relief was short-lived. He turned to find his satchel, but was distracted by his tablet chiming that the data had finished compiling. As much as he wanted to see it, that could wait, and he bumped into Summer as she handed his satchel to him; he wasn’t expecting her to be that close. Her smile was a sad hint, and his arms went around her in a quick, fervent hug. “This will be quick like bunnies,” he predicted, but it felt like a wish, a hope.
    â€œI know,” she whispered, but even if they did this right, there were no guarantees.
    He held Summer’s coat for her, and as Allen and Peri waited impatiently by the door with the stolen drone, he gave one last look at the space that he and Summer had made. His eyes rose to his friends, all of them looking like exotic ancient warriors, with the battle paint around their eyes and across their cheekbones.
    â€œLet’s go,” he said,