Eyes of the Void (The Final Architecture, #2)

by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Olli felt she’d seen enough shit for one day, but then the abiding lesson of the universe was there was always more shit.

The printer finished up, and a little silvered tray extended. On it was a knife, Scintilla duelling standard, made out of hard plastic. Kris picked it up and slipped it into her sleeve, feeling disproportionate comfort from its slight weight. She then heard running feet and shouting voices, not too many doors away from hers. Bring it, she thought. Things were about to get litigious.