“On it,” said Sahara, focusing on her djinni display. “Get the screens.”
Anja and Marisa leaped into action, collecting every working screen in the building, and Bao helped arrange them into a makeshift command center: two wall screens, three table menus—one with a spidery crack across the center—and the small hostess screen from the podium. Sahara connected to the San Juanito network and sent each screen a different image: live feeds from traffic nulis, archived street photos from the net, and even a blueprint from the construction company that built the place. Put together, they could see the building from every angle.
“Perfect,” said Marisa. “Okay, so this is where the power cable comes in, on the west wall.” She tapped the image on one of the table menus. That’s the top floor, and from the layout of the windows I’d say there’s only two floors inside. So the server farm is probably here, in the northwest corner, and the nearest entrance is . . . this side door.”
“Almost certainly locked,” said Bao. “I’ll have to go in the front and find my way from there.”
“Which you can’t do,” said Saif, “because you’ll never get past the Tì Xū Dāo.”
“Maybe we could distract them,” said Bao. “Find some way of pulling their attention, or just completely . . . scaring them away?”
“You want to scare an armed gang?” asked Sahara. “How good at this do you think you are?”
“They’ve only recently hooked up with the Bluescreen cartel,” said Bao. “Maybe they have a headquarters of their own somewhere else in the city—we could threaten it somehow, send out a fake fire alarm or something.”
“Or light a real fire,” said Anja. Marisa glared at her. “What?” asked Anja. “Everything else we’re doing, and arson is where you draw the line?”
“What about these loading doors in the back?” asked Sahara. “Could you get in there?”
“Maybe if you had a delivery van and a convincing invoice,” said Saif. “But there’s no way you could get that.”
“We’d have to steal a shipment that’s already coming in,” said Bao, “or hack their calendar so they think one’s coming in.”
“Hacking’s not going to work,” said Marisa, staring at the screen. “Which sucks.” She tapped her teeth with her metal forefinger. “I wish we could see inside—maybe there’s something there that will tip us off—some awesome something that makes this all work.”
“I might be able to get Camilla close enough to peek inside,” said Sahara. “Even if they shoot her down, it might be worth it for a quick look.”
“And then they’d know we’re coming,” said Marisa, shaking her head. “We need the element of surprise.”
“How about another delivery nuli?” asked Anja. “Like the one you stole last night? A random cambot would raise questions, but one with a legit logo might be able to get in. Assuming these are the type of people who order delivery.”
“That . . . ,” Saif growled. “Damn it, that might work.”
“You don’t sound very pleased,” said Marisa.
“Because I don’t want you to do this,” said Saif. “Marisa, can we please talk?”
“A dinner delivery will work great,” said Sahara. “Everyone will assume it was someone else who ordered. No one will even question it.”
“Let’s try it,” said Marisa. “What do you think: tacos?”
“Chinese,” said Anja.
“I can’t decide if that’s racist or not,” said Bao.
“Are you kidding?” asked Anja. “Take it from an outsider—you Los Angelinos eat Chinese, like, four meals a day. Even San Juanito serves lo mein.”
Bao shrugged. “Fair enough.”
Marisa called up a list of Chinese restaurants with good delivery options, and read one aloud: “Fung Noodle; it’s about ten miles away, which gives us time to hack into the onboard systems of whatever nuli they send. Plus it’s cheap—how much are we sending them?”
“These people shot up my neighborhood,” said Sahara. “No way am I buying them dinner.”
“You know what?” asked Saif. “I’ll pay for it. I have to admit I’m dying to see how they react to this thing.”
“Wait!” shouted Marisa. “Don’t turn your djinni back on!”
Saif froze, staring at her with his mouth open. “Kutte ke tatte, I totally forgot. Sorry for cussing.”
“I’ll ask Jaya what that means later,” said Marisa. “Are you on now?”
“Yeah,” said Saif, “I’m halfway through the order, just let me finish and I’ll turn it back off.”
“How long have you been on?”
“I got on just now,” said Saif. “It’s okay, I’m fine.” He blinked a few more times, and then his eyes refocused on Marisa. “Done. And . . . off.”
“Be careful,” said Marisa softly, feeling her heart slowly return to a normal speed. “That was close, and I . . . don’t want . . .” She almost said I don’t want to lose you, but stopped herself.