July 22, 2030
The second wave didn't look like momentum either.
It looked like paperwork.
Timothy was in the conference room when Hana walked in without knocking, a thin stack of printed documents in her hands. Not contracts this time—addenda. Amendments. Clarifications requested after signatures.
She placed them on the table without comment.
"They're back," she said.
Timothy didn't ask who. He picked up the top sheet and skimmed the header.
Addendum B — Capacity Reservation and Priority Service Allocation
He read the first paragraph, then the second, then stopped.
"They want guarantees," he said.
"They want space," Hana replied. "Not speed. Not features. Capacity."
Timothy leaned back in his chair. "That's different."
"Yes," Hana said. "That means they're assuming we'll be full."
