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underlying insecurity. Believe it or not, the ones with children are the worst. I was contracted to a family when I was seventeen. I had double duty. Work in the kitchen, sing for private events. This Chancellor, he loved opera. Or so he claimed.

“He had a private annex on his estate. He took me there after performances.” She shook her head. “Do you know how hard it is to sing at pitch when a man who loves anal penetration is pumping you from behind?”

Michael’s blood drained. He regretted going there.

“Oh, shit. Look, you don’t need to explain a damn thing. OK?”

“I’m long over it, Michael. It’s been eight years. In truth, that wasn’t the part that got me angry. I might have lived with it had he never invited his brothers to join in.”

She was placid, her features free of anxiety. Her voice bore no ill will, as if she’d come to peace with it. Still, her revelation caught Michael broadside.

“I’m sorry I …”

“No, Michael. You posed an honest question. But I’ll spare you the rest. They found this Chancellor months later, alone on a beach with his head adjacent to his body. I’d met Rikard at the first organizing conference. He put me in contact with the right people to make it look like a tragic salvo in the Chancellor civil war.”

He fumbled over his words.

“Damn, Maya. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s life. We breathe.”

As badass women went, he’d seen nothing like Maya since his fiancée brought down a helicopter with an M16. But the grace she showed, the mask of a woman in total control, amazed him.

“So, I reckon if I ask you whether we’re gonna come through all this in one piece, you’d say what?”

“I’d say the pieces of our enemy will be unrecognizable. This will take some doing, but we’ll defeat them in time.”

“I pray you’re right, Maya.”

She stopped him with a curious smile.

“That word. Pray. Does it have to do with divine worship?”

“Kinda-sorta. You don’t have the word in Engleshe?”

“Not as far as I know. How exactly does one pray?”

“I reckon it’s up to each of us. Say it aloud, keep it to yourself. Just between you and God. And yeah, I know you people don’t believe in The Big Guy.”

“But you do?”

“When I need to.”

“We should talk someday about why you pray to this God.”

Michael let loose a hearty guffaw. “Don’t know if I’m the best source, but reckon I am the only one.”

The notion of being the sole believer in an entire universe laid heavy on Michael. Did he owe God a solid when few people on this Earth understood the concept of a higher being? Then again, did God exist in a multiverse? Maybe nothing watched over mankind on this side. Michael didn’t want to venture down such a winding, philosophical road.

“Until somebody proves different,” he told Maya, “I think I’m gonna have to pray for help from my guns and my friends.”

“And your heart, Michael. Even if you lose the first two, your heart will point you down the right path.”

He didn’t understand how, but Maya settled his nerves. After what she endured, Michael reasoned, she should have been angry and distrustful of men. Maybe she’s right, he thought. Trust my damn heart, and I’ll come out the other end.

Nice sentiments. A buoyant moment.

Naturally, premature.

Michael knew something was off as they approached the outpost. The facility, made of lumber born of the forest and shielded with a layer of climate-resistant marosilicate, was camouflaged by the centuries-old trees. It rose three stories, built into the thirty-degree slope, each level fronted by a north-facing balcony. Michael heard the echoes of argumentative voices long before he saw faces. When he and Maya reached the base of the outpost, the arguments stopped, but a chillier reception awaited.

Rikard and Raimi stood like silent sentinels, hands crossed over their chests. Even from a distance, Michael knew Rikard was livid.

“Don’t say it,” Michael started when he reached the balcony. “We still can’t stream.”

“Oh, we can, after a fashion,” Rikard said, nodding to Raimi, who picked up the point.

“We’re clear to drop messages on admin stacks, no danger. All of us can access public streams and infotainment backchannels. But there’s a limit on live amps and cubes. Solomons can amp in to other Solomons without feeling threatened. The algorithms for our circastream nodes are built for inter-Solomon communication.”

Michael’s head was spinning. “Dumb it down, dude.”

“Chancellory and Solomon amps have different core designs. They didn’t provide us the same universal access features.”

“That’s something, I reckon. But I don’t see the problem.”

Rikard and Raimi shared a grimace. Raimi said: “Michael, we can’t risk amping Chancellors. They can use the algorithm to track us.”

His stomach tightened. “You mean I can’t talk to Sam?”

“Not in real time. You’d put us in danger. But you can prepare a data loop to drop on her admin stack. If you don’t know how, I’ll walk you through it.”

“She can do the same?” Raimi nodded. Michael was happy for anything. “It’ll be like passing notes in class, I guess. I can live with that for now. But I heard you guys arguing. There’s gotta be more.”

Rikard’s face turned red. “We have much bigger problems than stream amps. Before you go inside … Michael, Maya, I hope you understand I never thought it would come to this. I never thought the pushback would be this dramatic.”

“Out with it,” Maya said. “Whatever the obstacle, we’ll face it.”

He choked up. “There’s going to a public announcement later today, but we confirmed it. The Admiralty of the Unification Guard is redeploying battalions from intersystem training posts and at least a hundred Ark Carriers. They’re being recalled to Earth.”

Michael twice experienced peacekeepers in action. Saw

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