Video receipts from recent days of exploits began queueing in the display of Karma Ilacqua’s sunglasses, for send-to and replay.
More honking big knife switches for big power loads, from a custom fabricator she had gone over to babysit. During that rollicking week in a Pioneer Federet backwood, they also accomplished some playtesting on other custom parts in the shop. The way he put it, “You’ve got good skills, you like new things, and you’re risky.” He finished the order on time, and Ilacqua sent the cargo examination and handoff video to the department that talks to departments. They had actually sent the guy who uses the knife switches to receive them. He explained that he has this job because he’s a natural-born lever puller, and he knows how to put out the fires.
Then there was the cool tubing. This tubing was really cool; incredibly complex, awesome, cool tubing. The inventor explanation (full of her and Karma saying the word ‘tubing’ back and forth) was sent to two project overminds, to the general group of people who carry things, and to her separate archive of information that people might request from her again.
One roll of ‘charged filter’ was the most delicate shipment. Ilacqua received it as a closed container. The handling request was to keep it both electrically grounded and in suspension. It sounded like a car part for a computer inhabited by sentient dust. That was her best, wildest guess, and as far as she went with that. A series of process shots and setup transition videos were sent to the project’s quicklog.
Karma accounted for her ride with Derringer in straightforward fashion. She didn’t want to be targeted as a secret accomplice on a secret mission with secret expenses. She maintained her innocence, didn’t ask him any awkward questions, and he didn’t require any promises from her. How unusual; he’s practically zero headache. Like with the elevator escape. She’s never had to eject him.