Surit dimmed the screen and went to check on the oxygen levels. He hated this. And worse, he knew that if he’d had to sync with anyone, he would have chosen Tennal in a heartbeat. That felt like—not taking advantage, because Tennal had thrown himself into this as much as Surit—but it felt like they could have had something, if not for this.

Only that was another comforting lie, wasn’t it? He and Tennal couldn’t have had anything. They’d never had a future.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the news screen until Basavi took a sharp breath.

This broadcast was a press conference. A girl sat at a dais in the Codifier Halls, looking grave, framed by flower sprays and the emblem of Orshan behind her. Two deputy legislators sat behind her in full formal wear. Surit had only a moment to sort out where he’d seen her before the audio kicked in:

“My name is Zinyary Halkana. I am the niece of the legislator.”

Tennal gave a low cry and shoved his chair back so he could see the screen.

The Zinyary on the screen looked nothing like the bubbly apprentice Tennal sometimes talked about. This version of her was somber, poised, pale. It was obviously a scripted statement, but she read it with enough assurance that she might have written it herself.

“Yesterday, my aunt was murdered by General Oma of Archer Division.”

The whole bridge was watching now. Istara muttered, “Took them long enough to come out and say it.”

“I am told General Oma intends to land on Orshan Central and take control of the government by force. I fully support my aunt’s deputies until a new legislator is lawfully elected, and I appeal to you all to do the same.”

“How did she get on a broadcast?” Tennal asked, his voice choked. “How did they get hold of her? Who’s using her?”

“She doesn’t look like she’s doing it under pressure,” Surit said.

“I know my brother has appeared in General Oma’s propaganda,” Zinyary said, her eyes uncompromising on the camera. “I believe he is under duress. Tennalhin, if you’re listening, please be careful.”

That was all of it. Tennal pushed to his feet, lunging toward the screen, but the clip winked out.

“She’s in Exana, then,” Surit said.

“She must have found my aunt’s allies,” Tennal said, pacing back and forth in front of the bridge’s main screen. “Of course they’d put a sixteen-year-old in front of the cameras—looks better than a washed-out politician. Of course she’d volunteer. She’s going to be top of Oma’s fucking hit list now. What are you doing, Zin?”

The crew had gone back to their duties, though they were all eavesdropping. The one exception was Istara, who said suddenly and loudly, “Got it.”

Tennal spun around. “What?”