[Seemingly satisfied with the plan, Nirad punches the button for the ground floor on the lift controls. The doors slide shut and they descend at a nice clip.]

Uh-- [He takes a split second to organize what he knows into something easily digested. He's been here for a long time; he can't just tell people things that he knows without telling them other things he's known for even longer than that. There's a minor shift in the tenor of the his mental buzz: it tastes like metal fillings in molars, looks like flashes of people, their faces smudged beyond recognition, and the glittering appeal in the simplicity of wiring. Port A connects to Slot B and wires through to--]

Concordia has a lot o security terminals and like...nets that log people's personal credentials as they move from one area to the other. So you're tagged, basically. [He taps his earpiece absently.] But they're monitored by automated systems, so unless you do a string of bad things in the same area or across different one's that makes a flaggable pattern then there's no reason anyone's really going to look at your log data. There's probably a way to distract the system? I'm not sure. I've never had to think about it.

[Ding. The doors slide open and Nirad cheerfully leads the way through the Bearing's ground floor lobby.]