She reached the tunnel that led to the old tram line. Inside, the walls were painted with murals of forgotten saints. She touched one – Saint Expeditus, the saint of fast solutions – and smiled.
Then her left temple implant flickered.
Five seconds.
She touched her temple. The number wasn’t a video resolution. In the old corpo-lingo of the Samba Mech leagues, 1080 meant full-spectrum recall : body, memory, and debt. They were coming to collect.