the man said as he took the seat next to Ian. “You look frightened. Don’t be.”Victor Carrington was Ian’s avatar on the Uprising boards. Alternatively, he called himself the Commander. “What would I have to be frightened of?” Ian said. He thought he’d pulled off the causal disinterest thing pretty well.The man visually scanned the inner circle around them, as if looking for eavesdroppers. “I think that high treason would be a good start,” he said. “Most people I know in your line of work get jumpy at that one.”Ian felt an icicle form in his chest. He chose to say nothing.“David Little,” the man said, offering his hand. “Sorry to be so confrontational, but I wanted to make sure I had your attention.”Reflexively, Ian accepted the man’s handshake. “I don’t . . .” His voice trailed away.“I know,” Little said. “It’s a tough thought. Life imprisonment. Death penalty. It’s a lot to absorb.”“Why are you here?” Ian managed to ask.“I’m going to convince you to take a walk with me.
