30: Deva
Deva
Lise took her to a room, somewhere deep underground, and told her to wait. Deva collapsed onto the sofa, only rising to get some water from the dispenser. Lise had mentioned a debrief, had said someone would be along soon.
Ten minutes later a man in a flight-suit, helmet tucked under his arm, escorted Keelin into the room. Both of them smiled.
“Thanks again,” the man said. He raised a hand, as if he was about to slap Keelin’s shoulder, but he held off.
“Joint effort,” she said.
His mouth twitched. He said something Deva didn’t catch, then left.
Keelin grabbed a flask of water. “You made it, then,” she said, throwing herself onto the second sofa. She took a long pull on her drink, drained most of the flask. Her brow was covered in sweat. There was no smile now.
“You to
