“Who gave the Jackal the holo of me killing Julian?” I ask. “Well, you don’t dally away time.” He did something just as I spoke, and the sound around us localizes. I can’t hear anything beyond an invisible five-meter bubble. Didn’t know they had toys like that. “The Proctors gave it to the Jackal,” he tells me. “Which ones?” “Apollo. All of us. Doesn’t matter.”
