CHAPTER 8: Cameras Never Blink in City Hall

The public camera above the exit had a red light everyone pretended not to notice.
There was another in the northeast corner, hidden inside a smoke detector housing. A third sat behind the press rail, owned by a local reporter whose editor had told him to collect atmosphere in case the redevelopment passed quietly.
Nothing had passed quietly.
Elara pointed toward the ceiling. Preserve the video from every angle before anyone in this building touches the server.
The city attorney, seated near the mayor, went pale enough for the crowd to see.
Mayor Rusk covered the microphone with one hand, but not before the first words slipped through. Shut it down.
The clerk looked at him, then at Elara, then at the recording device still running on her desk.
I am not authorized to delete an active public record, the clerk said.
It was the bravest sentence anyone in that room had spoken all morning.
Holt tried to sit up. Elara did not look at him again.
The badge on his chest was still bright. The authority behind it was beginning to look borrowed.