Maris ate standing, eyes scouring the streets. Now it was personal. Now they'd come after him and Ilsa. Firefly helopods subsided slowly, each one an assassin, Maris tracking them all for the telltale veer toward them. Pedestrians grew fewer, each one an assassin, Maris tracking them all for the telltale glance toward them. Somehow the assassins had intercepted Ilsa's order, compromised the delivery, introduced the nanochines, and set it outside their hotel room door. All within fifteen minutes. They'd been ready. They'd been planning it. Why? He wasn't even officially on the case, hadn't been since coming to Crestonia. They wanted him off the case. I must be close, he thought. Somewhere, I hit a nerve. One of the last three places he'd gone, he was sure. Plavinas Development Crèche? he wondered. Balozi Neurobiotics? Infantide Interstellar seemed an unlikely place to have offended someone. Further, he'd been alone, Ilsa at the hotel, recovering from the nightclub attempt. Plavinas or Balozi.
