Fred started the recording, and the man came to life. His voice was gravelly and low, like he’d been punched in the throat too many times. “Fred. I know this has got to be a hard time for you. For what it’s worth, it’s pretty shocking to all of us. But so it goes. History’s made of surprises that seem obvious in retrospect. I want you to know, I didn’t sanction any of this. But I know the men who did, and say what you will about their methods, they’re true patriots.”

“What the fuck is this?” Holden said.

“Wait for it,” Fred said.

“I’m reaching out to you now to make peace within the organization. I know as well as you do how much you’ve sacrificed and how hard you’ve worked for the OPA over the years. It’s not forgotten. But we’re in a new age now, and it carries its own logic. I know you’re enough of a man to recognize the difference between justice and the things that have to happen. I’ll get you back in the fold. I swear to that. But I’m going to need a token. Something I can take to the new powers to show that you’re a reasonable man. That you can negotiate. You’ve taken a prisoner. Not one of the people who participated in the insurrection. Even they know asking that so soon is a bridge too far. But a prisoner of yours nonetheless. His name’s William Sakai. As a gesture of good faith, I’m asking that you turn him over to me at Pallas Station, in return for which I will guarantee you a seat at the table when —”

Fred stopped the recording, Anderson Dawes caught with his eyes and mouth half-open.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Holden said.

“No one’s laughing.”

Holden sat down on the edge of the desk, staring at the frozen man, his chest a welter of conflicting emotions: anger, surprise, outrage, amusement, despair. “You could tell him we already threw him out an airlock.”

“Would that be before or after we threw him out an airlock?”

“Either way works for me.”

Fred smiled and shut down the display. “You say that, but you wouldn’t do it. Even angry, you’re too decent a man. And it turns out I am too.”

“Really?”

“I got soft when I got old. Everything seems… delicate to me now. We’re still under lockdown, and I have to open that up. Have to get some semblance of normalcy. That’s not the point, though. I have invitations to two tables. The inner planets are in retreat. They’re regrouping. The radicals within the OPA are becoming the new leadership.”

“But they’re crazy mass murderers.”

“Yes,” Fred said. “And we don’t know who they are. Dawes does. I don’t.”