Singularity

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“Cream? Sugar?”

“No. Black. Thank you.” Thad Becker had learned early on in this business not to allow anyone to add things to his drinks or season what he ate. It was a delicate balance — showing trust and exhibiting prudence. But in the end you can either be careful or you can pay the price.

He accepted the cup from the person he’d come here to see: a dark-haired, fit, Caucasian man in his late fifties who called himself Akinsanya — a Nigerian name that meant “the hero avenges.”

Thad had done his research. It’d taken calling in quite a few favors, but he’d found out who the guy really was: a retired Army colonel named Derek Byrne. A former sniper instructor, Byrne was not a man to be trifled with.

He also knew about the kind of research Byrne was focused on here at Plyotech: a program that was not, according to any of the company’s books, actually taking place. It was the kind of research the people who’d hired Thad had expressed keen interest in: robotics, mechatronics, informatics.

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