The war room smells of hot copper, ozone, and the sharp, metallic tang of exhausted biology.
I stand at the head of the holographic table, my left arm resting heavily in the carbon-fiber sling. The neuro-blockers have taken the edge off the blinding static in my head, but the dull, throbbing ache in my shoulder is a constant reminder of the telluric feedback. The transatlantic fiber-optic cables are severed, lying in ruins at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. But the holographic display above the table is glowing with a steady, bioluminescent golden light.
The wireless telluric grid is holding.
"The biological lattice has fully integrated with the Schumann resonance," Morgan says, her fingers flying across the holographic keyboard. Her silver-streaked hair is escaping its bun, her face
