The customs interview room felt smaller than it should have, all sterile walls and uncomfortable chairs designed to unsettle, the kind of place where people were meant to feel insignificant.
Inspector Davidson sat across from Tanya, his posture calm but precise. Two plainclothes officers flanked him, silent and unreadable. The atmosphere was far too heavy for what Tanya had hoped was a dispute over an insurance claim but she knew it wasn't.
"Look, I can explain about the taxi," Tanya began, forcing confidence she didn't feel. "I've come into some money recently, so I'm willing to pay for a replacement. But it really wasn't my fault…"
"Ms. Furrow," Davidson cut her off with a raised hand. "We know your taxi was caught in a vortex storm. Weather patterns in the vortex are constantly monitored. We have complete records of what happened."
Tanya blinked, her rehearsed excuses collapsing. "You… know?"
Davidson gestured at the two officers. "Give us some privacy, please."
The men exchanged a glance but obeyed, slipping out. The door sealed behind them with a soft hiss. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, from an interrogation to something colder and more deliberate.
Davidson folded his hands on the table. "Ms. Furrow, I know about your little friend."
Tanya's stomach dropped. Her fingers twitched toward her neck, and she felt Sage retreat deeper into her mind, as if the AI were trying to disappear behind her thoughts.
"I can see the panic in your eyes," Davidson said smoothly. "Don't bother denying it. And don't answer me, either. It's better if you don't. Plausible deniability is a shield for both of us."
Tanya forced herself to breathe. "Then what do you want?"
Instead of replying, Davidson activated a projector. A hologram flickered to life between them: a young man in his twenties, dark-haired, intense-eyed, with the haunted look of someone who'd seen too much too quickly.
"This is Tsu Williams," Davidson said. "He was caught in a vortex storm about nine months ago. Roughly the same time as you." He paused. "He also has a… companion. Like yours."
Tanya studied the image, her mind racing. Someone else. Another survivor who had been changed. "What happened to him?"
"He's on Eden-Three," Davidson said, his voice flat. "The system is now cut off from the Empire. Artificial vortex storms seal it off from entry or exit. Williams has declared himself a revolutionary leader, promising to 'free humanity from corporate oppression.' He's using technology beyond human science to make good on those promises."
Tanya was shocked by the revelation. She thought of the ruins she'd explored, the alien materials in her workshop, the multitool on her arm. Another person had walked a similar path but had chosen rebellion.
She found her voice, quiet but steady. "And you think I'll become like him."
Davidson studied her carefully. "I think you have a choice."
He leaned back, adjusting his jacket with deliberate calm. "I want to propose a trade. Information for partnership."
Tanya narrowed her eyes. "What kind of partnership?"
"The kind that keeps you protected," Davidson said. "The kind that keeps you funded. Official contracts. Access to restricted research archives. Easier business licenses. Doors that would otherwise stay closed." His voice dropped. "And in return, you share innovations that might destabilise things if they leaked uncontrolled. We make sure they don't end up in the wrong hands."
Tanya exhaled slowly. A leash, disguised as a handshake. "So you get access to whatever I invent, and I get… what? Legitimacy?"
"Legitimacy. Protection. Information. And a measure of freedom," Davidson replied smoothly. "Right now, you're an unknown element. Unknowns make governments nervous. But a known element can be tolerated, even nurtured."
Her throat tightened. "And what happens if I refuse?"
Davidson shrugged. "Then you go on as before. But expansion becomes… difficult. Licenses denied. Supply chains disrupted. Unexpected inspections. All perfectly legal, of course. Just enough friction to remind you how fragile independence can be. I also only represent one faction of the government; I can't say what the others would do."
Tanya almost laughed at the transparency of it. Almost.
//Assessment: classic containment strategy,// Sage murmured, faint and sardonic. //Carrot and stick, weighted heavily toward stick.//
Tanya ignored the whisper, keeping her eyes on Davidson. "You mentioned information."
"Yes." Davidson's expression sharpened. "About your friend. About others like your friend. Origins. Purpose. Why this is happening to people like you and Williams."
"Others?" The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Davidson smiled faintly. "Did you think you were the only one? Ms. Furrow, the universe is bigger than you know. Bigger than I know. But people like you—people who come back changed—are appearing more often. Some disappear quietly. Some don't. Williams was the first to make a spectacle of himself this time around."
Tanya sat back, her heart pounding. She wasn't alone. The thought was both comforting and terrifying. If Williams had chosen war, what was she choosing?
"I need time," she said finally.
"Of course." Davidson stood, straightening his jacket. "But understand that this offer isn't indefinite. Other departments won't be so patient. Seventy-two hours should be enough for someone of your intelligence to weigh the options."
He moved to the door, then paused. "One more thing, Ms. Furrow. The galaxy doesn't need another revolutionary. It needs builders. Innovators. People who create instead of destroying. Keep that in mind when you decide."
The door closed behind him, leaving Tanya alone with the ghostly memory of the hologram. Another survivor, but one who had chosen fire and storm.
The flight back to Eden-Five was silent. The moment Tanya entered her workshop, she spoke aloud.
"So," she said. "Want to tell me what that was really about?"
//The individual demonstrates significant knowledge of our operational parameters. Government awareness extends further than expected.//
"How much do they actually know?"
//Unknown. Reference to 'others like you' indicates multiple subjects under observation. The situation with Williams is genuine.//
Tanya dropped into her chair, staring at her cluttered workbench. "He really is out there. Someone else who went through what I did."
//Affirmative. But his development diverged significantly. He chose domination. You choose service. No, two bonded take the same path//
"Bonded?" Tanya muttered. "How do I know I won't end up like him?"
//Trajectory analysis: improbable. You lack the temperament for demagoguery.// A pause. //Also, you are a terrible liar. Revolution requires better liars.//
Tanya snorted despite herself. "Comforting."
She leaned back, letting her eyes trace the fabrication machinery gleaming in the workshop light. Davidson's words echoed in her head. Builders, not revolutionaries. She wanted that to be true. She wanted it to be her truth.
But she only had seventy-two hours to decide whether to trust the leash or risk walking the tightrope alone.
The first night, she told herself she'd say no. That she would build in secret, sell her designs quietly, and keep her head down. Independence had always been her instinct, it was better to risk failure on her terms than succeed under someone else's control. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus and David in the farmhouse, Marcus's kid running between the fields. All of them would be exposed if anyone decided to dig too deep into her "unique situation." She could see the other factions using them as hostages. If not them, maybe they would just silence her permanently.
The second night, she considered the alternative. Say yes, accept the leash, and maybe she could turn it into a tether she could climb. Government protection wasn't free, but it was better than her family ending up as collateral damage. And Davidson had been clear: whether she cooperated or not, she was already on the radar.
By dawn of the third day, exhaustion had stripped away the illusions of choice. It wasn't freedom versus control. It was survival versus gambling her family's safety.
When Davidson's face appeared on her comm screen, Tanya didn't waste words. "I'll take your offer," she said, voice steady. "But I have conditions."
Davidson's expression remained neutral. "I'm listening."
"My family stays completely out of this. No surveillance, no interference, no contact unless it's absolutely critical. They're farmers, not weapons manufacturers, and I want them protected from any fallout that comes from my... unique situation."
"That's reasonable," Davidson said. "What else?"
"I want your personal guarantee that if other agencies or powers try to pressure them, you'll protect them. Not just leave them alone but actively shield them from anyone who might try to use them as leverage against me."
Davidson was quiet for a moment, considering. "That's a significant commitment, Ms. Furrow. It means putting considerable resources toward protecting people who aren't directly involved in our arrangement."
"Then maybe you'll understand how seriously I take their safety." Tanya met his stare through the screen. "This is non-negotiable. My family's protection, or no deal."
"Agreed," Davidson said finally. "You have my word that your family will be protected from any interference related to your activities. Both from our organisation and from others who might take an interest in your capabilities."
Tanya felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. "Good. What's the next step?"
"I'd like to assign you a business manager. Someone to help navigate the commercial and regulatory aspects of your growing operations."
"That sounds like a handler," Tanya said flatly.
Davidson didn't deny it. "It's someone whose job will be to ensure your success while keeping you compliant with our agreement. But I think you'll find the arrangement more beneficial than restrictive." He paused. "I'd suggest meeting with her before making any final judgments. She's quite good at what she does."
"Her?"
"Amara Okafor. Former corporate executive, current freelance consultant, and someone with a particular talent for turning innovative technology into profitable enterprises. She's worked with... unique situations before."
Tanya sensed there was more to that description than Davidson was saying. "And if I don't like working with her?"
"Then we'll find someone else. The goal is to make this partnership work, not to saddle you with someone you can't stand." Davidson's expression grew more serious. "Ms. Furrow, I want to be clear about something. This arrangement succeeds when you succeed. Your innovations, your business growth, your continued cooperation—they all benefit us. Making you miserable would be counterproductive."
"Alright," Tanya said. "I'll meet with her. But I reserve the right to request a replacement if it doesn't work out."
"Of course. She'll be in touch within the next day or two to arrange a meeting."
After the call ended, Tanya sat in her workshop, staring at the projects scattered across her workbench. She'd just committed herself to a path that felt both promising and dangerous. The question now was whether she could navigate it without losing herself in the process.
---
Tanya arrived at Eden-Five's orbital station with considerably more curiosity than anxiety. After her conversation with Davidson, she was genuinely interested to meet this Amara Okafor, partly to see what kind of person the government thought could handle her situation, and partly because she was beginning to realise she did need business and legal help. She couldn't continue to rely on her family lawyer forever.
The woman waiting in Conference Room Delta-7 was not what she'd expected.
Tall and elegant, with dark hair pulled back in a severe bun and skin the colour of rich earth, she commanded the space simply by being in it. Her business suit was immaculate, her posture perfect, and when she stood to extend her hand, Tanya felt immediately underdressed in her work clothes.
"Ms. Furrow, I'm Amara Okafor," the woman said, her voice carrying a slight accent that spoke of education and authority. "I understand you're looking for someone to handle the business side of your operations."
"That depends," Tanya said, shaking the offered hand and noting the firm, confident grip. "Davidson says you're good at turning innovative technology into profitable enterprises. But I should probably mention up front that I'm not really comfortable with someone else controlling my company."
Amara's smile was understanding and genuinely amused. "I wouldn't expect you to be. Most engineers are control enthusiasts. It is what makes you good at building things that don't fall apart." She gestured for Tanya to sit. "But let me be clear about what I'm offering. My job is to solve your business problems so you can focus on designing revolutionary spacecraft without worrying about contract negotiations, regulatory compliance, and corporate politics."
"That still sounds like it gives you an awful lot of power over my work," Tanya said carefully.
"Only the power you choose to delegate," Amara replied smoothly. "I handle the boring stuff, such as paperwork, negotiations, and making sure corporations don't try to cheat you because they think engineers are easy marks. You make all the big decisions about company direction and which projects to take on." Her expression grew more serious. "Davidson mentioned that you want your business to serve people rather than exploit them. That's not just admirable but it's smart business in the long term. I'll work within those parameters."
"And if those parameters make certain deals impossible?"
"Then we don't do those deals," Amara said simply. "Forcing clients into arrangements they fundamentally oppose is bad for morale, bad for long-term relationships, and bad for business. There's always another customer."
Tanya felt some of her wariness ease. "What's your background? How did you end up doing this kind of work?"
"Corporate consulting, mainly. I've built three companies from scratch and helped several others navigate difficult transitions." Amara's expression became more thoughtful. "I also have experience working with... shall we say, unconventional technologies. Situations where standard business practices don't quite apply."
"Unconventional how?"
"The kind of unconventional where asking too many specific questions might put you on lists you don't want to be on," Amara said diplomatically. "Let's just say that some innovations require careful handling to avoid unwanted attention from various interested parties."
Tanya understood immediately. "You've worked with other people like me."
"No, not exactly like you, but I've worked with people who needed their business operations to appear completely normal while dealing with technologies that most people wouldn't understand or believe." Amara leaned forward slightly. "The key is building legitimate success on top of extraordinary capabilities. Give people something they can understand and appreciate without having to explain the impossible parts."
"That makes sense," Tanya admitted. "So what happens now?"
"First, we establish a proper corporate structure. Your current setup works for small projects, but if you're going to scale up, you need real infrastructure." Amara consulted her tablet. "I'm thinking a ground-based office near your workshop so it is convenient for you, and it projects the right image of an established operation with deep roots."
"How close to my workshop?" Tanya asked, suddenly wary.
"Close enough to be convenient, far enough away to maintain your privacy," Amara said diplomatically. "I assume your workshop has some unusual capabilities that you prefer to keep private. I'm not here to pry into your technical operations. I'm here to handle the business side so you don't have to."
Tanya studied Amara's expression, looking for signs of deception or hidden agendas. What she saw instead was professional competence and what looked like genuine interest in making the arrangement work.
"What's in this for you?" she asked bluntly. "I mean, Davidson says you're a freelance consultant, but this feels like more than a standard business relationship."
Amara was quiet for a moment, considering her answer. "You want honesty? I have a vested interest in seeing you succeed. Not just because it's good business, but because I believe the innovations you're developing could make a real difference in people's lives." She paused. "And because I've seen what happens when people with your kind of capabilities go down the wrong path. I'd rather help build something positive than clean up something destructive."
"You're talking about Tsu Williams."
"Among others," Amara said grimly. "Revolutionary technology in the hands of someone who wants to overturn the established order tends to end badly for everyone involved. But in the hands of someone who wants to build better ships and help farmers improve their equipment? That's the kind of change the galaxy needs."
There was a flicker in Amara's eyes, a heaviness Tanya couldn't quite name. It made her wonder if Amara's eagerness to help wasn't about Tanya at all but about some past failing, some debt she was desperate to pay down. Maybe Tanya was just the convenient place for her to settle her karmic accounts.
"Alright," she said, extending her hand. "Let's build a company."
"Excellent," Amara said, shaking it with obvious satisfaction. "I'll have preliminary office plans ready by tomorrow, and we can start discussing your immediate business objectives." She smiled. "Welcome to the business world, Ms. Furrow. Try not to let it corrupt your engineering ideals too badly."
"Just as long as you don't let the business world corrupt your consulting ethics," Tanya replied.
"Deal. Now, let's talk about turning your revolutionary materials into a sustainable revenue stream."