This vial could contain any number of things: explosions and fire, or slow decay, or more horrible fates I can’t even imagine. I think of the alien statues back on Gaia and the cold needles that sink into my chest when I lay eyes on them. They were a species with so much power and so much knowledge, and they still managed to go mysteriously extinct. Gaia plays with too many artifacts that they really shouldn’t. There are too many angles that I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m handing over to this woman.

Shit, shit, shit. My conscience sure picked a hell of a time to spring to life.

As Ives reaches for the vial, I close my fingers over it and pull my hand back.

“But of course, I’ll need to check with my mother to solidify the terms,” I say, and suppress a wince at the furious look she gives me. I force a smile in return. “And you can feel secure knowing the results of Altair’s test. I’ll be back in the morning to give you our final answer. How does eight o’clock sound?”

Ives leans back in her chair, irritation evident in every small motion as she settles back into place.

“I see,” she says, folding her arms on her lap with obvious restraint. “Fine. I will see you then.”

Despite her neutral words, I can see in her eyes that I’ve made an enemy. Maybe I’ll be able to fix this if we do future business… but more likely, I’ve just burned this bridge along with losing out on those credits. And for what? My stars-damned conscience? Every one of my instincts screams at me to make this right somehow, but instead I rise to my feet.

“Thank you for your time, General.” I offer a hasty salute along with my words, grab my coat, and rush out the door. Ives watches me as I go, her expression so cold that I half expect soldiers to apprehend me on some silent cue from her. But the only thing to follow me out of the building is my own self-loathing, and that’s bad enough.