#161: Open Solo

The descent and landing of Lieutenant Kaarn Pinsen’s away team, with her detail of three crewmembers of the Domain Fleet Starship Bogdanove—Orion and Tarsus, two burly male security officers, one light-skinned, one dark, and Kingsley, a raven-haired Cambodian communications and tracking expert—had taken place without incident. The small, sleek cruiser had found a school playground, abandoned for the summer save for dog walkers and some neighborhood kids who played sandlot baseball on a neglected diamond in the far corner —pitcher’s hand, right field out—sometimes three times a day, and cloaked the vessel from earthling eyes.

#160: Telegraph Road

Lemon Lime had a mind of her own.

#159: Green Eyes

Clarissa thought she saw a shimmer in the alley as she climbed down the ladder from the roof of her apartment building. But her Ms. Megaton Man visor was in her garment bag, along with her uniform. She landed on the back stoop of her apartment and rifled through the bag; by the time she affixed the visor and scanned the alley, whatever it was she thought she saw had gone.

#158: Screen Door

Avie James thought she heard what sounded like tires on gravel in the alley behind the apartment. She was in the kitchen at the rear of the apartment, not cooking or cleaning but planning a stage production on the small kitchenette table. Her notebooks, sketchbooks, and drawing and writing implements were spread out.