The Summit range was empty at two-forty on a Thursday, which was the only reason Blair Davenport was in it.
Elite Ten residents had priority booking until six. Most of them used it to film themselves for sponsors. Blair had booked the whole block, three hours, and the system had filled in Misato's name as the requesting assistant out of habit. She had deleted it and typed her own. The screen had asked her to confirm twice. She had confirmed twice.
She set the candle on the steel plinth at the end of lane four. A plain white household candle, eleven dollars at the campus store, where the cashier had looked at the Davenport crest on her card and then at the candle and then at her, plainly waiting for an explanation. Blair had not given one.
She walked back eight meters, raised her right hand, and called a flame.
