The crimson light on Lin Mo’s spirit-communicator flashed with rapid, frantic pulses.
Lin Mo pressed the receiver button. A beam of crystalline blue light projected into the center of the command cabin aboard Flagship Superyacht Number One.
The holographic image of Sister Clara flickered into view.
The seventy-two-year-old nun was wrapped in a frost-covered woolen shawl, shivering violently against a howling blizzard. Ice crystals clung to her eyelashes and silver hair. Behind her, the damp granite walls of an ancient subterranean cellar shuddered under distant, heavy artillery thuds.
Around Sister Clara, dozens of small children wrapped in patched blankets huddled together for warmth.
Several older girls were spooning thin cabbage broth into the mouths of feverish infants who were shivering with dark frostbite sores.
[Pure-Heart Eye Target Scan: Sister Clara (Age 72).]
[Goodness Score: 98 / 100. Current Status: In extreme distress, shielding 500 plague orphans in the Nordic Frost Mountains.]
