The rain kept falling sideways. Kaelen looked at his hand—the one holding the Tnzyl-issued gun. Then he looked at the tower, at the woman, at the truth vibrating in the air.
“You shattered a bank vault,” Kaelen replied.
“Voloco,” Kaelen said, raising his dampener pistol. tnzyl-voloco-mhkr
“I opened a door,” Voloco sang through her. The tape on her throat began to peel, lifted by a subsonic vibration. “The mhkr tower amplifies truth. Want to hear what Tnzyl is really manufacturing?”
He tossed the pistol into the gutter.
“Make it two,” he said.
Voloco’s melody softened. “Three minutes. Can you give me that?” The rain kept falling sideways
Kaelen found the host—a thin, trembling woman with silver duct tape wrapped around her throat. She sat at the base of the mhkr tower, humming a broken chord.
“Now you understand,” the voice sang. “You can shoot me and bring back a broken code. Or you can help me broadcast this through the mhkr tower to every screen in the city.” “You shattered a bank vault,” Kaelen replied
And above them, the mhkr tower began to sing.