Page 43 of Static/Cling

Bjorn leaned across the desk, one finger held up.

Leif met him halfway and they touched, fingertip to fingertip. Sparks flashed and formed an arc between them just before they touched.

“If you melt down any circuit in a security system, you’ll lock the place down. It’s a common fail-safe with electronic locks.”

“I don’t have to melt anything down. I just have to make it blink.”

“Sounds like that would require a fair amount of control.”

“Well—” Bjorn swung around to glare at Kassian. “—you can piss me off right before we get there.”

Leif kicked him.

“What? Worked before.”

“It goes on the list,” Sal said. “Anyone else got an idea?”

Roger offered, “I can get a dog to run onto the grounds while the gate’s open for someone else, and Kassian can pretend to be the owner. They’ll have to let him go get his dog.”

“Wouldn’t they escort him in and, more importantly, out again?”

“I’ll be the owner,” Leif said. “Kassian can slip in while we have them distracted.”

“Risky,” Sal said, but put it on the list.

“You shouldn’t go in without me,” Bjorn said.

“I’m not really going in. I’ll be the one they have their eyes glued to, so no danger to me.”

“I’m not a fan of a plan that relies on a dumb animal to pull it off,” Kassian said.

Roger literally growled, threw his ball at Kassian’s head, and spun in his chair to face his blank computer screen, arms crossed.

“No, Rog.” Kassian caught the ball. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever.”

Sal handed Roger another ball, and he started furiously bouncing it off the window, which created enough booming vibrations through the room to drown out Kassian’s protests.

“Roger,” Sal said, kindly, but firmly.

Roger moved his bouncing from the window to the wall next to it.

“I won’t be party to any plan that might get a dog hurt,” Kassian amended.

“As if I would allow any plan that was dangerous to a dog,” Roger said, like it should have been obvious.

“It’s on the list,” Sal reminded them. “Next?” They looked over at Kassian. “What about Rufus?”

“No.”

“He could help.”

“I won’t ask him to.”

“Who’s Rufus?” Bjorn asked.

“His brother,” Roger stage-whispered, as if the whole room couldn’t hear him.

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