The chamber erupted. Vega’s gavel struck until silence returned. Arliss tried to judge Vega’s features: Did he realize the truth was about to emerge? Or did he gamble that Arliss brought no proof?

  “That is a serious accusation,” Councilor Nesbitt said, leaning forward. “What evidence supports this claim?”

  Here’s where it gets thin. Where the knife’s edge narrows.

  Arliss understood a harsh reality: The moment he dropped names, enemies would line up to tear him down, perhaps even to kill him. His eyes drifted off to the right, where Wind Readers sat together.

  “I was arrested less than one week after a faction of Pure Breathers claimed Blends were sabotaging the atmospheric regulators to stoke fear in the Tetonian population. That arrest occurred three days after I refused a large payment from my father-in-law, Wind Reader Galen Keet, who wanted me to sever my marriage, take our son, and move to another city on the Southern Platte.”

  Arliss joined all eyes in gauging the Wind Reader’s response. The old man’s eyes did not blink. He glared at Arliss, with no sign of anger, disbelief, dismay, or humiliation.

  “I see how it is, Mr. Dubai,” Vega answered the charges. “Coincidence is not conspiracy. And to level such a scandalous charge at a revered man of the temple is beyond reviling. The idea that we allowed you in here to challenge a lawful imprisonment based on hearsay and paranoia is a new low for this body. I move to disregard the …”

  You don’t end it that easily, you fringing slag.

  “The regulators I supposedly sabotaged were on Level 127, a section for which I never had clearance to access,” Arliss continued, fighting to keep his voice level. “Prosecutors never showed the security logs they said proved my guilt. They produced testimony from one Tetonian domo who said he saw me in the area urns before the breakdown.”

  Murmurs spread through the gallery, but Arliss sensed the tide turn against him. Yes, this wasn’t much, but it also wasn’t the grand finale. Not close. Too many gaps, too many assumptions. Vega sensed it too, his posture relaxing as he leaned back in his chair.

  “These are administrative complaints, not evidence of conspiracy,” Vega said. “Is this why you invoked Right of Mercy? To air grievances about procedural matters from five years ago?”

  He’s winning. They’re buying his dismissal.

  “There’s much more,” Arliss said, his mouth dry. “Wind Reader Keet sent an emissary to me before my sentencing. He said if I accepted the prison term without appeal, my wife and son would be protected. If not, they would face ‘consequences beyond my control.’ Given that my wife is a Tetonian, I took the message as a clear threat on the life of my son, who is a Patchwork, and a boy I will protect with my life.”

  “An emissary,” Vega countered. “But never face to face. No? Your word against a respected Wind Reader’s. Where is your evidence, Dubai? Where is anything tangible that supports these wild accusations? And in what way, is any of this relevant to the crisis unfolding in Sinquin?”

  The gallery grew louder, more hostile. Someone shouted for Arliss to be removed. Another suggested he be taken outside and thrown off the Mega. Others joined in, their anger feeding on itself.

  “You’re correct, Councilor Vega,” Arliss said, his voice rising above the noise. “I have no physical evidence of the conspiracy on me today. Then again, the enforcers who executed those three children assumed there would never be evidence linking them to the crime. Just as the Blends who have disappeared mysteriously from Vandress over the years left no trace. What I do have are legal records. My father-in-law signed the consent edict that sent me to Rogue 19.”

  Here I go, plunging into the abyss.

  “He signed it after making a deal with you, Councilor Ennis Vega.”

  Vega bolted from his seat, pounding the gavel.

  “How dare you defile this body.”

  Arliss refused to let the man have this moment.

  “It is all connected!” Arliss shouted, his control breaking. “The same system that imprisoned me is the one that allows children to be executed without trial. The same prejudice that separated me from my family is what labels all Blends as disposable! It is a crime imposed on my people by those such as yourself and other Pure Breathers who would us banished to the wastelands.”

  The crowd’s hostility surged, drowning out his words. Vega’s face twisted with triumph, playing to the gallery’s anger.

  The crowd is with him.

  Arliss glanced over to Nesbitt, whose eyes shifted between Arliss and Vega. An aide whispered in her ear. Other councilors leaned over to each other.

  Amid the uproar, a new murmur dashed through the chamber. Arliss turned to his right to see Galen rising from his seat.

  Meera says he’s only out to save himself. Here’s his chance.

  Galen left the special box and stepped into the circle beside Arliss, close enough that Arliss smelled the ritual incense embedded in the fabric of his robes. He never stood this close to the man in his life.

  The Wind Reader’s face revealed nothing, his eyes fixed on the Council members above him.

  “Honored Councilors,” Galen began, his voice carrying the practiced cadence of temple oratory, “I request permission to address this petition directly.”

  Vega’s brows furrowed, a muscle twitching near his jaw.

  “Wind Reader Keet, this is irregular. You were scheduled to speak in support of the Blend Employment Restriction Ordinance.”

  “Indeed,” Galen replied, inclining his head. “And I will address that matter as well. But first, I must speak to the accusations made by Arliss Dubai.”

  Councilor Nesbitt leaned forward.

  “As you have been attacked publicly, it is your right to respond. The Council recognizes Wind Reader Keet.”

  Galen clasped his hands before him, the gesture both pious and calculating.

  “Five years ago, I did sign the consent edict that sent Arliss Dubai to Rogue 19. I made sure the record was hidden from public access. I regret that choice.”

  The admission sent new whispers through the gallery. Arliss kept his face neutral, though his pulse quickened. Whatever Keet planned, it wasn’t a full confession of guilt, but this could have been so much worse.

  “I believed I was acting in accordance with the Breath’s teachings on purity and protection.”

  Vega pounded his gavel.

  “Wind Reader, this has no bearing on …”

  “I have the floor, Councilor,” Keet said, his tone mild but unyielding. “As I was saying, I believed my actions served the greater good. I was misguided.”

  The chamber fell silent. Even the most hostile spectators seemed stunned by this admission from a high-ranking Wind Reader. The very idea of someone so high in the temple admitting error … scandalous did not begin to cover it.

  “The Breath is not static,” Galen said, addressing the entire chamber now. “It moves and shifts like the winds themselves. When we fail to adapt our understanding, we risk spiritual stagnation.”

  Arliss felt the moment turning his way, but he knew this was not a confession of conspiracy. Galen had something bigger on his mind.

  “The Fifteenth Wind Reading, which many cite to justify separation of Blends, has been gravely misinterpreted,” Galen continued. “It states: ‘Impurity enters when natural cycles are disrupted, bringing discord to that which was harmonious.’”

  A Pure Breather in the gallery shouted:

  “Exactly! The Blends disrupt the natural order!”

  Galen turned toward the voice.

  “For generations, we have assumed this refers to bodily modification. But I have spent recent days in deep meditation, listening to the planet’s voice. The impurity spoken of is not in the genetics. It is in the heart. It is in the actions that deny dignity to those who have served Teton faithfully.”

  Gasps and shouts erupted. Councilor Treymane half-rose from her seat, face flushed with anger.

  “Wind Reader Keet, you border on heresy,” she snapped.

  “I speak the truth of the wind,” Galen replied, unshaken. “The Blends were created to heal our planet where pure humans could not survive the work. They sacrificed their lives to preserve our world. The discord, the impurity, comes not from their existence but from our refusal to honor that sacrifice.”

  Arliss couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The man who had destroyed his family, who had helped Vega imprison him, was now speaking words that could tear down the very foundation of anti-Blend sentiment.

  “The Third Volume of Atmospheric Wisdom reminds us that ‘gratitude must flow to those who bear burdens beyond their choosing,’” Galen continued, his voice rising above the growing tumult. “The Blends did not choose their modifications. Our ancestors altered them to serve a greater purpose: Our survival.”

  Vega slammed his gavel.

  “This is outrageous. Wind Reader Keet, you were brought here to testify about the dangers of Blend integration, not to reinterpret sacred texts.”

  “I was brought here to speak truth.” Galen met Vega’s glare. “And the truth is that I have been complicit in a system that betrays the deepest teachings of the Breath. My signature on Arliss Dubai’s consent edict was not based on evidence of wrongdoing, but on political expediency and personal prejudice.”

  The admission hit the chamber like a thunderclap. Arliss felt a surge of vindication so powerful it almost buckled his knees.

  “I was approached by and accepted the help of a Pure Breather faction led by then-private citizen Ennis Vega.” Galen looked straight at Arliss for the first time. “I can no longer remain silent about my role. I believe also that you must pursue the other evidence presented here today. We did not reach this place overnight.”

  The Wind Reader’s blue robes whispered against the polished floor as he stepped from the petitioner’s circle, head bowed in what might have been shame, exhaustion, relief, or a combination. Galen did not look back as he passed Capt. Morran and pushed through the massive doors.

  Councilor Vega’s face morphed into uncontrolled fury. His knuckles whitened around the gavel as he brought it down with unnecessary force.

  “This Council will recess to private session to consider the outrage of Wind Reader Keet’s testimony and his baseless accusations against me.” Vega’s voice dripped with contempt, but Arliss saw through the mask. He saw the fear. “We will reconvene later to address the full agenda, including the Blend Employment Restriction Ordinance.”

  But the momentum had shifted. Arliss felt it in the altered murmurs, saw it in the uncertain glances exchanged between Council members. Nesbitt caught his eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  Now. While they’re off-balance, and before someone simps the motion …

  “Councilor,” Arliss called out. “I have not completed my statement under the Right of Mercy.”

  Vega froze, trapped by protocol.

  “You have said more than enough, Dubai. You will …”

  “Finish speaking,” Nesbitt said.

  “I second Councilor Nesbitt’s motion,” Drayson added.

  Arliss stepped forward, claiming the center of the circle once more. The weight of generations seemed to press down upon his shoulders as he gazed around the chamber.

  For you, Kip. For you, Meercat.

  “My parents taught me our history. Not the version in your censored Education Banks, but the truth passed down through generations of Blends.”

  He drew a deep breath, feeling the servos in his lungs expand to capture more oxygen, the enhancements that allowed his ancestors to work in toxic atmospheres now giving strength to his words.

  “My great-grandparents belonged to the first generation. They were told the truth then: That Teton was dying, that the atmosphere had degraded beyond what natural humans could repair. Like other Blends, they accepted their mission and chose sacrifice, knowing their children and their children’s children would bear the mark of their decision.”

  The chamber grew still, hundreds of eyes fixed on his blue skin, the visible reminder of what set him apart.

  “They took pride in their service. Pride in knowing that while their bodies were changed forever, they were saving a world. Your ancestors celebrated them then. Called them heroes. The first generation of Blends worked alongside Tetonians in mutual respect, rebuilding what pollution and neglect had destroyed.”

  Arliss zeroed in on Vega.

  “But somewhere along the way, gratitude turned to fear. Partnership became domination. And now you stand ready to legislate us into oblivion; the very people whose existence made your continued survival possible. And worse, evidence that some among you have been making many of my people disappear without a trace. So much arrogance that executing and cremating our children has become acceptable to some of you.”

  A current surged through the gallery, neither approval nor condemnation, but something more complex. Recognition?

  “I am willing to accept consequences for myself and for my son,” Arliss continued. “He broke the law, and I failed to guide him properly. But do not use our mistakes to justify crushing an entire people. The Blend do not wish for more than we deserve. Just the dignity of fair treatment and the acknowledgment of our humanity.”

  His gaze swept across the councilors’ dais.

  “Look at your atmospheric readings. The correct ones – not the revisionist nonsense Councilor Vega presented today. Look at your water quality reports. Look at the names on maintenance logs for the most dangerous repair operations. You will find Blend names there, still serving, still sacrificing, still saving this world despite how you treat us.”

  Arliss felt a strange calm settle over him. Whatever happened next – whether they sentenced him to death or dismissed his petition – he had spoken truth in this chamber of power.

  Live on the major streams.

  “My son joined a group called the Pikers because he saw no future for himself in your society. Children turn to violence when they have no hope. Give them reason to hope, and you will have no need for raids or restrictions or executions.

  “Continue down this path of division until it destroys us all or remember that Teton survives because of our shared sacrifice. Your comfort was built on Blend bodies. Your clean air comes from Blend labor. Your future depends on Blend cooperation. You can try to rely on drones and automated systems, but they have one thing in common – they will break. Like the Megas themselves. Who knows better than we do how to fix them?”

  Arliss stepped back, his piece said.

  “I conclude my petition and ask for your mercy.”

  Councilor Nesbitt rose from her seat, her posture straight and unyielding. The chamber, still reeling from Arliss’s testimony, fell into an expectant hush.

  “In light of the evidence presented today, including Wind Reader Keet’s unprecedented testimony, I move that this Council immediately establish an inquest.” Her voice carried across the chamber. “This inquest will examine not only the events of last night in Sinquin, but also a long pattern of Blend disappearances, and the allegations of collusion between Councilor Vega and others to wrongfully convict Arliss Dubai.”

  There it was. The best chance he’d ever have. The moment threatened to change everything – or nothing. Would someone second the motion?

  Arliss stood frozen within the petitioner’s circle, his enhanced senses cataloging every reaction. Councilor Treymane’s lips pressed into a thin line. Two other councilors exchanged glances.

  Vega’s face darkened.

  “This motion is absurd and premature. We have heard nothing but unsubstantiated accusations, the emotional testimony of a desperate criminal, and unfortunately, a misguided man of faith who is trying to compensate for a crisis of confidence.” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a dangerous register. “I remind the Council that three Enforcement Q officers are dead, killed by Blend terrorists, this man’s son being one.”

  “All the more reason for a proper investigation,” Nesbitt countered. “Unless EQ can prove otherwise, three Blends have also been murdered. If we are to prevent further violence, we must understand its causes. We are not here to adjudicate the actual crimes.”

  Arliss felt the weight of the moment press against his chest, constricting his breathing. Somewhere in the Servo District, Meera and Kip waited for word. Somewhere, the remaining Pikers mourned their dead. Had he done enough?

  “I second the motion.”

  Again, Sinquin’s junior representative stepped up. He nodded thanks toward Val Drayson.

  Victory, however, disappeared as soon as it arrived. The massive doors at the rear of the chamber swung open. An officer entered and whispered to Captain Morran, whose eyes ballooned. Morran strode past Arliss, his face grim. Without invitation, he climbed the narrow steps to the Council dais and whispered to Vega.

  Arliss watched Vega’s expression shift from irritation to something more calculating. The councilor straightened, raising a hand to silence the chamber.

  “This public intake must be suspended immediately,” Vega announced, his voice carrying an edge of satisfaction that sent ice through Arliss’s veins. “I have just received word of an armed standoff in the Servo District. Blend insurgents have taken Enforcement Q officers hostage.”

  Shouts of outrage mingled with gasps of disbelief. Arliss felt the floor tilt beneath him.

  No. Not now. Not when we were so close.

  “There are reports of casualties,” Vega continued, raising his voice above the chaos. “Enforcement Q has contained the situation for now, but the violence continues to escalate. We ask that no one panic. All citizens watching from Sinquin are advised to stay home until the crisis has been resolved.”

  Arliss caught Nesbitt’s eye. Her expression conveyed what they both understood: This changed everything. A crisis this enormous might bury her proposal.

  Vega raised his hands for silence.

  “The Sixteenth Wind Reading reminds us that ‘when storms rage fiercest, the center remains still.’ Let us be that center today.”