After a moment’s more explanation from Madeline, Ayala saw that it was done and raised her hand slightly. Madeline fell silent. Her role was done; she had played her part excellently. Ayala waited a moment more and then said softly, “You see, Shinobu, we do not need your money. We never did. We needed something that we could not buy. We needed access to complex research facilities and expensive materials. And now we need to use the product of our work to move on the next stage: fabricating, testing, and then manufacturing the smallest, most advanced machine man has ever created.”

She let that information sink in a moment like she was spooning medicine into him, and then she gave him his final dose:

“So, Shinobu, I am afraid we have used you. I am sorry to say that but it is true. And now I am telling you that you are going to help us to build what we need. You can do it because we are trying to save the world. Or because your competitors would be more than happy to help us in return for the detailed designs of the resonance manipulator.

“Or you can do it because if you don’t … you will die. Either at the hands of the alien force already here, or the far more powerful Armada that is hot on their heels.” Then Ayala leaned in close, saying her next words right into his face in a barely audible whisper, “Though if I am honest, if you do not do as we say, your death will far more likely be at my hands, and trust me, you have as much chance of escaping me as you do the satellites that watch us even now.” Ayala straightened slowly once more, with lean menace.

Madeline felt for the poor man. But she played along, acting out her part as Ayala had planned it, “So, Shinobu, are you with us?” Madeline said, like she was his advocate, his protector from the assassin standing between him and the door.

It … they … shinjirarenai … the old executive’s mind spun. He thought of the threat to his life and shuddered, but in truth his mind was racing with the thought of the greater threat above. The end of everything he knew. All his work building up his father’s company, all for nothing. He thought of his arrogance, and how pleasantly ignorant he had been before he came into this room today.

He mourned his broken innocence, and as he contemplated it all he found he hated these women for bringing him to their circle. They were damned: damned by their knowledge, damned by their complicity in the earth’s defense, and now he was too. But underneath that layer of resentment he knew they were all damned, everyone of them, unless he did what these women asked.