the smuggler’s bible


The metal is cold in her hand as she sockets the interrupt into her rig in the basement. A line of indicators down the side blink red two, three times then glow a steady yellow-green. Juliet hears the quiet hum of electricity and the small internal fan starts whirring.

“Huron, you old cheat,” she says through clenched teeth. “Don’t fuck me on this.”

She breathes deep and jacks in. When she opens her eyes she is bathed in sunlight under a blue sky, grass sways around her for miles. In the distance, a building—and the faint sound of static.