The Extraordinary Studio was quieter than when they'd arrived. Kira's pod, number sixteen, was dark and unoccupied; she'd clearly given up the fight against sleep at some point and gone home. Only a handful of players remained, hunched over their rigs in the particular stillness of people who had decided the night wasn't over yet.
Don retrieved his light-sensing glasses from the equipment station, tucked them into his bag, and walked with Lily to the elevator.
The lobby of Henshaw Tower was empty. The street beyond the glass doors looked the way Liverpool looked past midnight, quiet, amber-lit, the occasional taxi moving through the distance. They pushed through and stepped outside.
The group was waiting for them.
A loose semicircle of young men, various ages, various degrees of trying to look casual about standing in a group outside a building at one in the morning. The streetlight caught their faces clearly enough. Don recognized several of them immediately.
