the smuggler’s bible

Hamlet

“Status.”

“Everything’s quiet,” Horatio says. “No activity at the mine.”

“Did they pick her up?”

The A.I. waits a beat, checking police logs. “Ophelia’s body has been collected. They’ve filed it as a suicide.”

Hamlet lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “That’s nonsense. What’s their justification?”

“Classified.”

Silence, for a moment. “Jesus,” Hamlet says finally. “That means the—”

A red bulb flares to life in the quiet darkness, burning hot and angry.

“What the hell is that?”

“Intruders, sir.”

“Shit. Which barrier?”

No pause this time, Horatio is running fast and lean. “They’re through everything.”