This was Tennal’s own fault. He knew with a cold certainty that he was caught between two pincers: Oma could stop him from escaping because she controlled the link, and she had made the rest of his home sector unlivable for him. If he ever tried to go home now, the legislator would arrest him for treason. No more second chances.

Tennal was used to making bad choices. Four weeks ago, he would have put his head in his hands and felt like a stain on the ground until he could escape and drink himself into oblivion. But now—he could hear Surit’s calm voice telling him to look at it logically. He hadn’t been stupid. He had been desperate.

But what was the better choice? What choices were left at all? Tennal watched Oma’s hands as she gestured to shut off the vid, and he tried not to despair.

“So that’s gone out on all major comms channels on all three planets,” Oma said conversationally.

“So glad,” Tennal said. “I’ve always wanted to be famous.”

“I can make this worth it for you,” Oma said. “We can at least make sure your architect isn’t a threat. I can get my medics to work on severing your sync.”

Tennal’s mind spun blankly. “So you can sync me instead? No, thanks. Anyway, you said it might kill me.”

“I promise, you’re more useful as an ally,” Oma said. “But I’ll be honest, it will kill your architect. You … probably not.”

For some reason that was worse. “I’d rather Surit weren’t dead, in fact. I do tend to leave a trail of spectacular fuckups, but I don’t want to leave a body count.”

Oma looked at him in a contemplative way that made Tennal even more unsettled. “Tell me,” she said, “did you really not have a plan to have Lieutenant Yeni follow you through the link?” Tennal was too off-balance to pull up a good response. “No, I don’t think you did. That’s interesting.”

“What do you want, a travel itinerary signed in triplicate?” Tennal said. “I was working things out. I don’t need him dead.”

Oma gave a terrifying smile. “Attached?”

The question shouldn’t have knocked Tennal backward the way it did. Attached to Surit? What could he say to that: they were friends? They were partners in crime? Tennal had offered to sleep with Surit, would have slept with him, if Surit had been less sensible? Surit was like nobody Tennal had met before, and Tennal was going to leave him, and it was rare that Tennal saw a regret coming before it hit, but he was going to regret that for the rest of his life.

He had hesitated for too long. He said, entirely inadequately, “No.”

That was when Tennal realized the question was a trap.

“Ah,” Oma said briskly. “So you’re not synced. Excellent.”