The sun over Water 7 reflected on the sea's surface in golden streaks, shimmering with the gentle sway of the waves. The docks were bustling, but no presence drew more attention than the blonde woman and the man in the black coat now approaching.
Kalifa adjusted her glasses with a smooth gesture, the golden reflection briefly hiding her eyes behind the thin lenses.
"You don't look like someone who belongs here."
Riser stopped.
The wind tugged lightly at the edges of his coat. His golden eyes fixed on a single point, as if processing more than just her surface-level provocation.
"You think you have the right to say where I should or shouldn't be?"
Kalifa blinked once, her breath faltering for half a second. The smile on her face didn't waver—but her eyes betrayed the stumble.
"No… I meant because of the war."
Riser remained still.
The waves crashed against the pillars in the distance, muffled by the sounds of presses and the clinking tools of engineers on the docks below.
"Go on."
Kalifa tucked a golden strand behind her ear, her gaze recomposing with precision. Her heel tapped the wooden dock lightly as she took a step forward.
"I mean… it's rare to see a man of your… stature, walking through Water 7 as if there weren't an execution ground being prepared."
She smiled sweetly.
"I can show you the city. If you'd like."
Riser tilted his head, his eyes sweeping the horizon. In the distance, a sea train glided over the curved tracks that encircled the island like steel serpents.
'Let's see how far this goes.'
"Lead the way."
Kalifa turned on her heel, her steps marking a near-musical rhythm on the weathered wood of the path. She walked with the poise of a trained dancer, shoulders straight, hips subtly accentuated by her fitted coat.
Riser followed.
No hurry.
No apparent interest.
But observing everything.
The contrast between the workers' shouts and her artificial calm was striking.
She spoke lightly, as if they were old acquaintances on a casual stroll.
"The Galley-La Company restored this part of the docks last winter. They say the sea's heat started affecting the structures. But it's not the kind of thing they put in the pamphlets."
Riser glanced at the cranes, the tracks, the metal corridors weaving through the shipyards.
"It's functional. But not beautiful."
Kalifa laughed.
"That's why tourists only see the marble façade in the city center."
She turned, her eyes hiding a sharp glint.
"But you don't seem like the type who cares for façades."
Riser didn't respond.
The air around him seemed to swallow any attempt to read his emotions.
Kalifa kept leading him through side alleys, away from the heavy traffic of ships and the noise of the port area.
Each step was a carefully choreographed dance.
She spoke in light phrases, feigned subtle stumbles, bent down twice to adjust her ankle bracelet.
But his eyes didn't waver.
They just watched.
The restaurant emerged among volcanic stone columns and curved structures adorned with marine mosaics.
It was discreet. The dark wooden balcony offered a direct view of the sea, and the few occupied tables with men in formal attire suggested this place was more private than touristy.
"I hope you don't mind the silence. The clients here don't like questions."
"Neither do I."
She gestured to the waiter without a word.
The table farthest from the balcony was cleared quickly.
Riser sat first.
Back straight. Hands on the table. Eyes fixed on her.
Kalifa removed her coat and draped it over the chair's arm, revealing a fitted high-neck dress with strategic side cutouts.
It was a design chosen to impress, but her gesture as she sat was subtly forced, as if she were trying to recall which pose showed her off best.
"So… do you like wine?"
"I don't drink anything that could cloud my read of the environment."
"Then iced tea. It suits the weather better."
She didn't seem frustrated.
But her attempt at sensuality had lost its spontaneity.
Riser noticed how her fingers rested on the crystal glass, her nails perfectly manicured, the way her eyes lowered to feign modesty.
'This isn't her best performance.'
'But she's trying.'
The sea breeze blew against the balcony, causing a golden strand to escape her bun and fall across her cheek.
Riser lifted his chin slightly.
"What do you do in Water 7?"
Kalifa picked up the menu, pretending to study it closely.
"I handle internal matters for the Galley-La Company. Logistics, contracts, naval construction maintenance…"
Her blue eyes rose slowly to meet his.
"…and I keep an eye on who comes and goes in the city. Certain names tend to cause… ripples."
Riser stayed silent.
Her answer was vague enough to be safe. Precise enough to be useful.
Kalifa crossed her legs slowly.
"I assume you brought your ship in for repairs."
"No."
She blinked once, masking the impact with a sip of tea.
"Ship transport is still the main way to get here."
"I don't use common routes."
The response landed like a stone at the bottom of a lake.
Kalifa smiled with her lips, but her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then… you came from above?"
"No."
"Below?"
"No."
She propped her chin on her hand.
The sleeve of her dress slid down slightly, revealing the metallic bracelet under her cuff.
"Then how?"
"By a method you wouldn't understand."
Kalifa leaned forward slightly.
Her silhouette, framed by the side light, outlined her curves strategically.
"I could try to understand… if you showed me."
Riser shifted his gaze to the horizon, where the orange sky reflected on the waters below.
"I don't show anything that doesn't need to be shown."
She held her smile.
"Direct."
"Always."
The waiter arrived with a tray.
He served two delicate glass cups with dark iced tea and sparkling ice. He left the pitcher and departed without a word.
Kalifa touched her glass with her fingertips.
"The sea seems calmer today."
"You're not interested in the sea."
She sipped.
The ice clinked.
"Maybe I'm interested in what it might hide."
"Or what might emerge from it."
Kalifa rested her elbows on the table. Her gaze was sharp but cloaked in unassuming curiosity.
"Do you always talk like this?"
"How?"
"Like someone hiding an entire library behind every word."
Riser didn't answer.
Kalifa bit the corner of her lower lip lightly, a brief, almost imperceptible gesture. But he saw it.
"You're trying to make me ask again."
"Did I succeed?"
"Yes."
She smiled.
"How did you get here, Riser?"
Silence hung between them for a second.
He sipped his tea. Calmly. Without emotion.
Then set the glass on the table.
"Some secrets only my crew has the right to know."
Kalifa didn't look away.
But her heart gave a soft leap. Small. Almost imperceptible. Yet… real.
'He didn't say "no one has the right to know." He said my crew.'
She crossed her legs slowly, her left knee sliding over the right in a rehearsed line of a dangerous dance.
'That was a signal.'
The golden glow of the sunset touched the side of her face, highlighting her sharp contours. But her mind was fixed on one thing:
'The plan worked.'
She feigned no reaction.
Just toyed with the glass in front of her, swirling the ice with her fingertip. Her perfect nails tapped lightly against the glass—tic-tic-tic.
'I got close. Used the right body language. A balance of vulnerability and elegance. Asked questions with the right tone. Gave him space to stay in control. He's testing. Testing me.'
Kalifa leaned forward subtly.
Just enough for the sunlight to fall along the line of her neck.
"Was that an invitation?"
Her voice was low.
Almost intimate.
The kind of voice spoken in an empty hallway—or the middle of a trap.
Riser didn't smile.
He just watched her for two more seconds.
"Yes."
The response was as direct as a gunshot.
No flourishes.
No power plays.
"I'm accepting."
Kalifa said it before thinking.
Or perhaps… she had thought too much since seeing his face in that newspaper.
'Whatever this mission is… it's mine now.'
'He offered a place.'
'Even if he doesn't know what that means for me.'
She leaned over the table, her eyes locked on him with more intensity than before.
"Do you accept just anyone?"
"No."
"Why me?"
Riser rested his forearm on the table. His golden eyes glowed like burning coals.
"Because you hide truths better than most."
Kalifa swallowed hard.
Inside, her stomach churned with the weight of the choice.
'He didn't ask for my story.'
'He didn't demand assurances.'
'He didn't require loyalty.'
'But he gave me… access.'
The word pulsed like a password.
Access.
'Spandam wanted me to get close. Infiltrate. Seduce. Use my body, if necessary.'
She glanced at her fingers, elegantly crossed over her knee.
'I didn't need that. Not entirely.'
'He already knew. From the first look.'
Kalifa leaned back.
The shadow of the balcony's awning now hid half her face.
The wind tugged at the loose strands of her bun, as if even the air wanted to witness what had just happened.
"If I join… your crew, what do you expect of me?"
Riser looked at the sea.
The tide had risen two centimeters since they sat down.
"That you become part of the world I'm building. Or destroy the remnants of the old one."
Kalifa closed her eyes for a moment.
Spandam's words echoed like an overplayed tape:
"Find out his methods. Learn how he moves. Gather. Infiltrate. Eliminate."
"Do whatever it takes. Even if it means sleeping with him."
She laughed inwardly.
'The worm didn't even know what he was asking for.'
'I didn't need to sleep with him. I just needed to stand my ground.'
She took a deep breath.
"So that's it."
She adjusted her glasses with her left hand. The gesture, once automatic, now felt like a ritual.
'Objective achieved.'
'Infiltration mission completed successfully.'
Kalifa was in.
Even if he didn't know where she came from.
Even if she wasn't sure she'd come out the other side intact.
She stood.
Her dress fell smoothly against her body with practiced ease. Her heels tapped the wooden floor with confidence. Posture erect. Shoulders relaxed.
"So, Captain… what's the next step?"
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