Ennis pulled up the holograph and watched a woman in work coveralls and a helmet stroll past the node.

  “That is Dubai’s wife?” When Morran confirmed, Ennis responded with a plausible follow-up. “She works for Silar Engines. She’s a water induction specialist. Why is this unusual?”

  “Not by itself. Proceed to the next stream.”

  The second holograph showed Meera returning, then the stream slipped forward several minups. A new figure emerged. Dark suit, push collar.

  “Is that …?”

  “Legate Muryll Steath.”

  Better than interesting.

  “Out of his full vestments. Risky venture. What would a legate of the temple be doing near the fusion substation?”

  “We weren’t sure, so we reviewed cycles worth of nodal streams. The Legate visits there regularly, as do a handful of Blends.”

  A full meal before breakfast. Remarkable.

  “Where specifically?”

  “We sent an officer to investigate. She found a chamber with meditation mats and candle insets.”

  The rest wasn’t difficult to surmise.

  “He administers to Blends in secret. I knew the man was a moderate, but this behavior is progressive to the point of baffling.”

  “Should we look deeper into his connection with the Dubai woman?”

  Ennis swiped away the holographs.

  “No, Captain. Your resources in Sinquin are stretched. I know how to come at this problem.”

  “Sir?”

  “My son Roe recently had an awkward encounter with her family. Steath diffused it. I can guess his motives with remarkable accuracy. I’ll handle him myself.” Ennis knew how far back Muryll Steath and Galen Keet went. “I’d like to change the subject.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “How are the raids faring?”

  Marron massaged the back of his neck.

  “To be honest? Unproductive, despite Commander Drace’s enthusiasm. The interrogations have yielded nothing of value, but my officers are most unwelcome in the Servo District.”

  “When have they not been? Has there been violence? Injuries to your men?”

  “Not yet.”

  Ennis held his tongue before he replied.

  Pity.

  “Your division chiefs. What do they suggest?”

  “Scaling back. We’ve hit all the usual suspects, Councilor. These people don’t know anything.”

  Typical bureaucrats. The cowardice runs amok. This will not stand.

  “Captain, important events are approaching. I intend to make history at the Council’s public intake in three days. Raising the temperature will ensure success.”

  “I don’t take your meaning.”

  “It’s not complicated, Captain. The Blends won’t talk because they’re not afraid. Inconvenienced, perhaps. But not terrified. Pure humans and Blends share a common instinct: Their behavior becomes more malleable when they stare into the face of their mortality. Tell Drace to intensify the raids, Captain. Go after their children. Those insipid little things crawl through the Mega’s hidden spaces like vermin.”

  Morran raised his hackles, as Ennis predicted.

  “Sir, if we target their children, the parents will fight back.”

  “Almost certainly.”

  The captain scoffed.

  “Sir, some of those Blends are G3’s or G4’s with combat servos.”

  “Your men have guns. No one will blame an officer acting in self-defense.”

  Ennis saw the man’s fear. Morran no doubt wondered whether this might be a perfect time to stop taking the Councilor’s chee.

  “I’ll have to give it thought,” Morran said. “Run it past my division chiefs and Drace. This will set off a firestorm, Councilor.”

  “Yes, it will. But as I see it, we’ve lost five good men. True humans fighting to keep our city safe. They deserve a measure of justice, no matter the form it takes. Yes?”

  Ennis bid Morran a good day and closed the stream.

  “Time to accelerate,” he told the empty office.

  ***

  Two urns later, Councilor Seska Treymane arrived as requested. After the childhood friends and fellow Pure Breathers dispensed with small talk, Treymane said:

  “Ennis, your aide suggested a sense of urgency.”

  “Sinquin is a greater problem than we perceived.” Ennis leaned over and unlocked the bottom-right desk drawer. “The coalition of moderate opposition across the Platte has an agent in Legate Muryll Steath. He operates with increasing boldness.”

  Treymane, who relied on the same tailor for her suits, nodded with keen understanding of the issue.

  “But he wouldn’t do so alone. He’d need substantial allies within the temple. Steath has long ties to Wind Reader Keet.”

  “Precisely,” Ennis interrupted. “I believe our friend Galen may be developing a counter-agenda. I do not want surprises when the Blend Restriction Ordinance comes before the intake.”

  “The vote will be close if the temple does not endorse it.”

  “Kaal won’t, but I have other strategies in the works, including a way to apply necessary pressure on Galen. I invited you here, Seska, to partake in shared delivery.”

  Treymane’s cheeks dropped, her astonishment clear.

  “Here? You have one here? In your office?”

  Ennis opened the desk drawer.

  “I’m never without the Resonance. It travels with me. You should take the same approach.” Ennis motioned for Treymane to come around his desk. “Please, Seska. Join me.”

  10

  ARLISS

  HE SAT CROSS-LEGGED on the floor of Kip's bedroom, surrounded by scattered tools and half-finished mechanical projects. The space felt foreign yet familiar: A boy's sanctuary, not unlike the one he'd created for himself at that age. He ran his fingers over a modified sensor unit, recognizing Meera's influence in the soldering technique.

  “This is good work,” he said, examining the device. “Your mother teach you this?”

  Kip nodded, keeping a careful distance at the edge of his bed.

  “Some. I figured out the rest.”

  The tension between them had eased since they agreed on a pact, but Arliss still felt the gap that five years had carved between them. His son watched him with a guarded curiosity that ached worse than any prison beating.

  “You know, Kip, before the weather shields, this was a different world. Storms used to sweep through with toxic air and acidic rain. We Blends, we painted the sky blue.”

  Kip’s expression shifted from wariness to interest.

  “They taught us about the Collapse in basic history, but they didn’t spend much time on who solved it.”

  “Of course they didn’t.” Arliss picked up a small gear from the floor, turning it between his fingers. “History gets written by those who control the schools.”

  His son slid down to sit on the floor, still maintaining distance but leaning forward.

  “What really happened?”

  Arliss closed his eyes, remembering the stories his father told him.

  “Humans thought they could tame this planet with technology alone. Built their megacities, almost all in the temperate zones. Their industry poisoned the air and weakened the atmosphere’s natural shields. Storms grew worse. The air became contaminated. Temperatures rose. They migrated north and south to escape the heat. Then guess what they did?”

  Kip, becoming ever more fascinated by this morning’s history lesson, raised a hand as if in a classroom.

  “That’s when they created us,” he said.

  At least the boy was engaged. Arliss wondered if these morning lessons would go anywhere.

  “You’re jumping ahead, Son. No, they more or less repeated the same mistakes. You see, their old cities were glass and titanium scrapers that touched the clouds. They didn’t adapt their architecture to their new circumstances. They built Megas to honor the past. Temples to the sky, some called them. Mostly the ones who believed the planet was a spiritual being.”

  “Like, alive?”

  “I don’t believe they called themselves Pure Breathers back then, but they held the same sentiment. Your grandparents taught me about that era. They said humans believed the Megas would work because the entire population would be confined to small regions. Nine cities in the South, seven in the North. It was based on some theory about reducing the industrial footprint.”

  Arliss chuckled, but not at any joke.

  “Didn’t work, of course. The mistakes caught up with them.”

  “And that’s when …”

  “They engineered us. Soldiers who could survive the extremes and build a new way of life … for them. Your great grandfather Eos was among the first generation. He helped build atmospheric scrubbers and a few of the Northern Platte’s weather shields.”

  Kip leaned closer, his eyes fixed on Arliss’s hand.

  “What happened to him? He must have moved South at some point.”

  Arliss’s father had choked up telling the story to Arliss at age seven.

  “Eos withered away in his last years. The radiation overwhelmed even his servos. That first generation had the most flaws. Afterward, they transferred grandmother and several others down here. The Vandress Megas were under assault, and the Tetonians used three generations of us to hold off the Collapse. They needed some of us as engineers to build out the most critical infrastructure, to enable the fusion cores; and the rest they put at work on the scrubbers and the shields.”

  Kip grabbed one of his makeshift toys and tossed it between his hands. Arliss remembered doing the same thing when he was a kid trying to piece together the big picture.

  “What really happened to my grandparents? You never talked about it before … and Mom said it wasn’t her place.”

  The room fell silent except for the distant hum of the building’s environmental systems. Arliss assumed this day would come.

  Nineteen years felt like forever.

  “The city’s primary shield generator failed. The Southern Platte was being hammered by the worst winter in centuries. Two thousand Blends were called in. Something went wrong during the repairs. Three hundred died, including Mother and Father. The official records listed it as ‘equipment failure.’ I was nine, so no one bothered explaining to me. The city didn’t consider it a tragedy. After all, we were built to take such risks. They sent in new crews straightaway and finished the job.”

  “Why did the Blends keep working if they knew they might die?”

  Arliss smiled as he faced the ironic reality.

  “Because this was their home, too. Despite everything, many Blends believed that once we saved the planet, we’d be accepted as equals. They were willing to pay that price.”

  Kip’s face darkened.

  “It didn’t happen.”

  “No. Once the shields were operational, once the air began to clear, the Tets decided we were a reminder of their mistakes. A population they never intended to grow beyond their control.” Arliss thought of the blue glow of the shields in the nighttime sky. “We gave them security. And in return, they pushed us into districts like this one.”

  Arliss didn’t want to entrench an even greater animus in Kip, but the boy needed to know the full picture.

  “After my parents died, I had no one. There were many orphans.” Arliss paused, his eyes distant. “I lived in abandoned maintenance tunnels for almost a year. Survived on nutrient paste stolen from expansion sites. The other Blend kids taught me which corridors were safe, who could be bribed with salvaged tech.”

  Kip’s eyes widened.

  “You were homeless?”

  “I found allies who helped.” He didn’t want to mention Offante’s role just yet, or the work that led him down that road. “It was a difficult time. New regulations and automated systems negated our role in protecting the city. Just like that, a hundred thousand Blends scrambled to find work wherever we could.

  “Back then, we still had many Tet allies who would hire Blends for more than just hazardous work. But over the years, that changed. The Pure Breathers gained influence. They created new residential zones, specialized education requirements. Each new rule stacked the field against us. You know the rest, Kip. You’ve been living it.”

  Kip picked up one of his tools and jabbed it ahead like a weapon.

  “We should fight back. Take what’s ours.”

  There came the predictable animosity. Arliss tensed but kept his voice steady.

  “There’s fighting, and then there’s surviving. Sometimes, surviving is the safer option.”

  “Is that what you did in prison? Survive?”

  The question hit Arliss like a swift right hook, but he nodded.

  “To come back to you and your mother.”

  Kip looked up, his eyes vulnerable.

  “Why did you really go away?”

  Arliss swallowed. If Kip knew the full truth, he’d vow revenge, and the cycle would repeat. Arliss feared nothing more than the likes of Ram Trent standing over his son with a shock baton.

  “Sometimes the system doesn’t give you choices. But I’m here now, and I want to help you understand our history so you can make better choices than I did.”

  “Like not thieving?” Kip asked, a hint of defiance in his voice.

  “I’m not a perfect man. I love you and your mother more than my life, but I took that love to an extreme. Kip, I wasn’t guilty of the crime they sentenced me for, but I wasn’t an innocent man. Many people, some of them Blends, were happy to see me gone.”

  Kip’s eyes showed that he reached a stunning revelation.

  “They were right about you.”

  “Who?”

  Kip checked himself.

  “Just … other kids I know. They said there was a rumor that you were some kind of enforcer in the black market. They said you scared the slag out of anybody who crossed you.”

  It wasn’t an accusation. If anything, Arliss heard a measure of pride in Kip’s tone. The boy’s eyes lit up with manic curiosity.

  “I’m not him anymore. I am trying to build an honest life and teach the same in you.”

  “I get it for true, Dad. I do. But I have to know … did you take down a bunch of null-jacks with your combat servos?”

  He’d gone too far with the confessional. When word of this little lesson got back to Meera, she might cancel the pact and insist Kip return to EdBank. No, he had to turn this thing around in a hurry.

  “Enough about crime and punishment. Let me ask you a question, Kip. Have you ever been outside?”

  The question was unexpected enough to blunt Kip’s disappointment about the subject change.

  “Outside? Like, on the ground?”

  “Yes.”

  The kid shrugged.

  “Thought that was illegal.”

  “Ah, so the answer’s no. Same answer for the second point: It’s not illegal. People are outside right now. Likely all Blend, I’ll grant you.”

  “Like who?”

  “Want to see for yourself?”

  His jaw fell agape.

  “For true?”

  “Put on your heaviest jacket. We’re going for a walk.”

  ***

  They slipped out of the apartment and took the first lift down forty levels before transferring to another. Arliss checked the time; he wasn’t due at Praxis Load for two urns. If he was going to set Kip loose on the District, he might as well give the boy one holla of a story to tell.

  The lift shuddered to a halt at the bottom level, where the massive support struts of the Mega disappeared into the foundation. Arliss placed a hand on Kip’s shoulder as they stepped into a corridor that hummed with the heartbeat of the city’s infrastructure.

  “Stay close.”

  He guided his son through a maze of pipes and conduits.

  Workers in maintenance jumpsuits nodded as they passed, their blue skin reflecting the faint utility lighting. Most had visible modifications: Enhanced lungs, temperature regulators, radiation filters, all designed for the harsh conditions of surface-level work.

  Like seeing ghosts from my past.

  They rounded a corner to face a massive circular door marked “Exurb Access 17.” A stocky Blend with silvery veins running along his neck manned the checkpoint, eyes widening at the sight of Arliss.

  “Well crimp my circuits,” the man laughed. “Arliss Dubai, back from the void and bringing a pup to boot.”

  “Jace,” Arliss clasped the man’s forearm. “Still guarding the door to nowhere?”

  “Nowhere to some, freedom to others.” Jace winked at Kip. “First time outside, young mix?”

  Kip nodded, eyes fixed on the massive door.

  “You’re in for a treat,” Jace said, punching a code into the access panel. “Air quality reading is ‘moderate’ today. Not that any Tet would believe it.” He leaned closer to Kip. “They’ve convinced themselves they’d drop dead the moment they stepped outside. Meanwhile, we work out there every day.”

  The domo provided each with a headlamp, which wrapped around their scalps. He explained to Kip how to tap the side controls to increase its coverage zone.

  The door released with an aching hiss, revealing a long tunnel bathed in yellow warning lights.

  “Don’t stay out past theurn,” Jace called after them. “Not because of the air. I just don’t want to have to send a search party for tourists.”

  The tunnel stretched twenty units before opening to the night. With each step, the Mega’s recycled air gave way to something richer, wilder. Kip’s steps quickened as they approached the exit.

  And also, much colder.

  They emerged onto a plateau of weathered stone, the chill biting at Arliss, though Kip seemed unfazed.

  “It smells different,” Kip whispered, drawing deep breaths. “Stronger.”

  “Real,” Arliss corrected. “This is unrecycled air. Impurities included.”

  A small breeze carried traces of minerals and distant vegetation … the planet’s true scent, not the sterile approximation pumped through the Mega’s ventilation systems. In the distance, the silhouettes of other Megas rose like sentinels against the horizon, their weather shields creating halos of diffused blue light. Each Mega rose like a clawhammer toward the sky.