Free The Lead Cloak (The Lattice Trilogy Book 1) by Erik Hanberg Page B

You’ve got to meet in person.”
    Shaw nodded. It was hard to argue with Ellie. “The raiders are going to know I’m coming. Whoever invented the spheres is likely listening right now,” Shaw murmured, as if being quiet would stop a jumper from listening. He shuddered, and tried to push away the feeling of being constantly watched, but it was hard.
    “It doesn’t change anything. Once you narrow down the possibilities, then you can find them no matter where they go.”
    “If they think I’m getting close, they could come after me—try to kill me.”
    “That wouldn’t make any sense. They’d just open themselves to being found that much more easily.”
    “Maybe. Or maybe there’s another assassin getting messages from a glass sphere on his coffee table.”
    Ellie looked away, staring out over the city.
    “I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “I didn’t mean to spoil the mood.”
    Ellie smiled, her eyes thick and wet. “It’s OK. I know you’ll come back to me.”
    He kissed her hard, and she threw her arms around him, holding him close.
    Eventually Ellie pulled away, and checked her forearm. “We still have a few hours before your party. What do you want to do until then?”
    It took Shaw a moment to remember it. “I thought it was Sagan and Naila’s party.”
    “But in your honor. They rented a commons over by Tower Grove.”
    Shaw nodded. Parties were all well and good. Parties in his honor were another thing altogether. “We could watch a fight,” he said. “Liston-Clay again, Johnson-Jeffries—”
    “By, you know I don’t like going to the fights. Even on your last night at home.”
    “Then what?”
    “A Crawfords game? We’re only a few games into the season.”
    “Only if Satchel Paige is pitching.”
    “I’ll check the listings and I suppose we can skip forward a game or two. But only because it’s your last night home.”
    A few years before Ellie had discovered a schedule of Negro League games, published without the final scores. “This is perfect, By!” She said. “We can watch a season of some of the greatest baseball players ever and not know the outcome.”
    Unless it was a boxing match, Shaw would have preferred watching live games, but Ellie didn’t like how seriously everyone took it. She liked sports, but got annoyed by the rabid fans. After watching a few games of the 1932 Pittsburgh Crawfords, Shaw thought the fans were pretty rabid then too, but Ellie seemed hooked, so they kept at it. They adopted the Crawfords as their “home team” and watched their complete 1932 and 1933 seasons, leaving them somewhere in the first few games of the 1934 season.
    Ellie curled up on the couch facing the jump screen and Shaw fell into the seat next to her. The only time they used the jump screen on the wall anymore was for watching Crawfords games. They could have jumped together in the Lattice to watch the game as avatars, but it wasn’t the same. Limited touch, and the food was fake.

Chapter 7

    Ever since his rescue from the Roman catacombs and the media frenzy that followed it, Shaw had done his best to avoid being the center of attention. The only exception he allowed was when he was inside the boxing ring. At least in the boxing ring, you got to hit people while they watched you.
    As he and Ellie entered the commons to a roar of adulation, Shaw swore under his breath. He really should have spent time working out with a speed bag before coming. Now he’d spend the whole night trying not to punch someone.
    He saw his brother Sagan and his sister-in-law Naila fighting through the crowd to get to him. They both put their hands on his shoulder and touched their helmets to his.
    “That shadow you cast over your little brother just keeps getting longer and longer,” Sagan said, laughing, and Shaw pushed him away. “How am I supposed to impress Mom now?”
    “Don’t listen to him, Byron. We’re all in your debt,” Naila said.
    “Listen, I don’t want this party to be a