"I am a professional," he whispered. "Professionally vibrating."
Her mouth twitched. "Coach."
"Yes, Captain."
He almost saluted her with his tea and barely stopped himself from throwing the whole cup into the air like a drink to a god. Focus, he told himself, amused. No throwing sacred tea.
The nave sounded different now. Less screaming without voices. More work. The cohort moved like a good kitchen during a lunch rush—everyone in their lane, speaking only when needed, tools put back where they belong.
Mikhailis pinned the left prime's pattern in his head. You keep trying to cut on the two and the five. We are taking away your five. You hate the three. Good. Let's eat the three.
He lifted his hand, small tilt of fingers to cue a shift that the Scurabons could read from the corner of their eyes. They drifted half a pace clockwise. Hypnoveils took a breath and let their mantles fall a half-inch. The light in the nave dimmed like a cloud moved across a sun that wasn't there.
