Oma sat back, a faint smile on her face. “Can I bribe you? I can offer a promotion, of course. But I would have thought you might be more persuaded by the opportunity to show the legislator she was wrong about you.”

“It’s very tempting,” Tennal said. “But honestly, I don’t trust that she doesn’t have a way to make me come back. You don’t know my aunt.”

“I used to,” Oma said.

“Of course,” Tennal said. “I forgot. I’m sure she was just as terrifying when she was eighteen and volunteering for unproven neuromodification experiments.” Of course, Oma had done exactly the same thing. “The thing is. The thing is, she’s family.” He stopped. He hadn’t even meant to say that. But his excuses always worked better when part of them was true. “You don’t know how hard it is to say no to family.”

Oma pushed herself away from the table and rose to her feet. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “And I understand it can be very difficult to be close to great figures. If you don’t have your own drive, you just get swept up in their wake.” This was cutting too close to the bone. Tennal opened his mouth, but Oma turned around briskly. “And she may not be as big a threat as you think.”

Tennal’s brain spun freely and uselessly. He stared at her in horror. “You couldn’t brainwash the legislator.”

“I won’t try to influence Yasanin,” Oma agreed, and it only then occurred to Tennal to wonder why not. “Call it shared history. But, let’s say, we can open robust negotiations. And you’ll have a part.”

Things started clicking into place in Tennal’s head. For a moment, almost as if he had read Oma, he saw the image she’d conjured: the legislator arriving at Archer Station to deal with Oma’s growing power base and being confronted with Tennal, right beside Oma, wearing Archer colors.

Tennal had been right. Oma wanted him as a symbol.

“That sounds above my pay grade,” Tennal said. “How about you just let me and Surit go? If not … well, as you’ve said, my aunt is coming tomorrow.” He didn’t have to point out that there were some secrets Oma wouldn’t want him to pass on.

“Ah. We’re at an impasse, then. I don’t think you should go.”

Bizarrely, this felt more familiar. More comfortable. Tennal put his feet up against the front panel of the desk. “How are you going to keep me?” he countered. “Lock me up, like you did to the old Fractal Note officers? I’d hardly be an asset like that.”

“Let’s see,” Oma said. She blanked the wraparound windows and changed them to a screen. It was one of those enormous ones intended for mass transmission. “You haven’t held a publicity post before, have you?”