Birimi hesitated. “I recognize this may add to the charges against me,” they said finally, “but while I was still in office, General Oma and I had a dispute over some remnants that went missing on their way to the Resolution. I somewhat inadvisably accused her of keeping them, Lights know for what purpose. I think that may have triggered my removal.”

Remnants. “Oh no,” Tennal said, as he saw Surit’s suddenly stricken face. “No, no, no, that does not make us more involved.”

“We brought—”

“No,” Tennal said. “Listen, this has gone too far, and we’re not politicians. You”—he gestured at Birimi—“might have been screwed over. My lieutenant here is a bit like a dog with a bone when it comes to that kind of thing. Or you might be lying to us, honestly, I’m still not sure. But you’re trapped here, and if you don’t think you should be, well, join the club. Let’s not start worrying about remnant disposal. What are we, Resolution Auditors? This isn’t our business!”

“Ah,” Birimi said, giving Tennal an uncomfortably aware look. “You say you’re trapped. You were conscripted?”

Tennal hadn’t meant to let that slip. “That’s irrelevant. Lieutenant Yeni.” Tennal waved at Surit, who, reassuringly reliable, brought up a screen with the list of illegal communications. “Get the headers, and show me who messaged him.”

A palm-sized red seal materialized in the air between them. It was the standard seal of a law shoal, inscribed with the five names of its members. And it was up to date: at the bottom, where the apprentice slot went, was the neat signature Zinyary Halkana.

Tennal hadn’t seen that before. And Surit hadn’t been looking.

“Are you sure you won’t decrypt their message?” Surit asked Birimi, not noticing Tennal’s expression. “It would be easier to exonerate you.”

Birimi’s face gave nothing away. “Exonerate me of what?” they said. “Do you think a handful of lawyers could physically break me out of detention?”

“Delete the charge,” Tennal said abruptly to Surit. “Make it disappear. I don’t care what you have to do.” He spun around to face Birimi.

Tennal’s sister, unlike Tennal himself, did not get pulled into causes she didn’t believe in. Zin had put her own name on a message to a deposed reader governor. Zin thought this was the right thing to do.

“If we got you out of here,” Tennal said, “where would you go?”

He caught Surit’s sudden astonished stare. But Tennal could sympathize with wanting to leave. Tennal couldn’t disappear into the Orshan sector: he had no allies, no documents, no rights groups backing him up. Tennal had to get through the link. But Birimi didn’t.

“To friends,” Birimi said immediately. “I would just rather be away from General Oma’s sphere of influence.”