After it was over, I went back to the embarkation zone and checked the activity around the transports I’d flagged. Still no increased security presence.

I bought passage with one of Pin-Lee’s cards and found a transient waiting area with actual couches and chairs where I could pretend to sleep while watching media and monitoring the station security feed. Still nothing.

My transport called for boarding, and I didn’t get on.

I checked the station directory and found Mensah had an office in the government admin block in the same section as the Port Authority. Her private quarters was listed, too. (Which is just a bad idea. I know Preservation thinks of itself as some kind of human non-corporate paradise, but let’s be real.) I didn’t want to go to her home anyway, since her family would be there, so I went to the office.

There was some security monitoring to get past, and three augmented humans who were way too easily distracted by fake feed alerts for routine malfunctions. It was a nice office, with a balcony overlooking the admin plaza area and some big display surfaces. I didn’t touch anything except the couch, which I laid down on and watched episodes for eight hours.

I had the station feed backburnered, and there were still no security alerts, no unusual activity around the passenger or bot-piloted transports.

Then I picked up Mensah arriving in the outer foyer with two humans and a small juvenile human, who looked like a miniature version of Mensah. I stood up and waited.

They walked in and stopped abruptly.

I said, “It’s me.”

“Yes, I see that.” Mensah pressed her lips together, hiding her expression, but she didn’t look mad. She glanced back at the other humans, then told me, “Just a moment.”

While she spoke to them, I stepped out onto the balcony. There was an air barrier protecting it from the plaza two levels below, which was better than nothing, I guess. The plaza had a big mosaic tile pattern with real plants in elaborate abstract sculptures around it. Humans and bots wandered across it on the way to the other port offices. Faint steps on audio told me the small human had followed me out. She stepped up to the railing, frowning curiously at me. She said, “Hello.”

“Hello,” I said. “I’m your mother’s pet security consultant.”

She nodded. “I know. She said if I asked you your name, you probably wouldn’t tell me.”

“She’s right.”

We stared at each other for ten seconds, then she decided I was serious. She added, “She also said you saved her from a bunch of corporate goons.”