The Hacker's office was on the forty-second floor of a building Caleb had passed under a thousand times and never looked up at.
She met him at the elevator.
He had seen her face once, in the rank-up ceremony. He had not seen her standing four feet away from him with no helmet between them and no broadcast filter on her voice. She was wearing a charcoal suit. Her hair was pulled back. Her left hand was bare and the right hand was gloved. She was thirty-seven years old and she looked older than thirty-seven and younger than thirty-seven at the same time, depending on what part of her face he looked at.
"Caleb."
"Kimmely."
"Come inside."
The office was one room. A long desk. Six monitors. A small couch. A coffee table with two mugs on it, both empty, both used. A photograph in a frame on the desk. Caleb couldn't see what was in it from this angle.
She closed the door behind him.
She did not lock it.
She did not need to.
***
