Sarah Fernandez was falling. Fast. From high in the troposphere, she plummeted through the clouds, racing toward the earth at terminal velocity. The coast of British Columbia took shape below her, growing steadily larger as she zeroed in on the eastern shore of Vancouver Island. Bordered by the Strait of Georgia, the spires of Victory City rose up toward her like a bed of nails and stopped.
She hovered over the city, her feet dangling just inches from the roof of the tallest building. She pitched forward and plunged fifty storeys toward the street below. She glided over the roofs of cars along a busy stretch of traffic and then rocketed back up to a long balcony on the tenth floor of an Art Deco office tower.
Pulling her gloves off with her teeth, she opened the sliding glass door and headed inside. She drifted over the hardwood floor to the reception desk of a small but important law firm. The receptionist, an older woman with blonde hair, smiled and handed Sarah a mailing box weighing about a kilogram and labelled with the address of another law firm on the other side of town.
“Cheers,” Sarah said, sliding the box into her messenger bag.
As she headed back to the exit, she dug her PDA from her jacket and pressed a button labelled “PICKED UP” in the job tracker app. She entered the destination into the built-in GPS as she floated over the balcony ledge and up to the roof of the building. Once she found her bearings, she put the device away and took to the skies again.