I wore all black, my body crisscrossed with holsters and various weapon-holding straps. I’d opted to go flamboyant, guessing that the hint of a physical threat would overshadow the actual danger—the technology I carried. Before the guard could ask, I handed over the duffel. “I’m headed to training after a meeting with my father. Senator Orpheus.”

He hefted the bag, still suspicious at the weight of the gear I carried, but after a glance at his display and my flashing credentials, he simply nodded. “We’ll hold onto these for you.”

“Of course.” I waved him off and started walking like this was routine and I was only mildly irritated at the process. My Gray escort caught up before I’d gone far.

I strode to the front of the line of administrative workers queued at the second checkpoint. “I’m in a hurry.” I made sure my tone dripped spoiled self-importance. It wasn’t hard to fake.

The Green Helix stationed there saw my gear and face and instantly put aside the comp he was scanning to assess my watch. I tapped my foot as I waited, hiding my nerves with the show of impatience. The codes I carried were incomplete, and would be innocent enough until I filled in the sequences from Cipher’s instructions. As long as I followed the plan, no one would suspect me of a thing.

“Clear to enter, Mr. Orpheus.” The Green nodded me through.

I didn’t let loose a relieved breath as I stepped deeper into the senate building. It was far too soon to feel relieved. The security panels, cameras, and armed guards were enough to keep the tension coursing through my system.

I wouldn’t relax a millimeter until I held Quanta in my arms.

Before long, we stood in front of a massive set of double doors, their wooden surfaces broken only by a gaudy gold and green nameplate: Senator Rashad Orpheus. The Gray bowed himself away. I pushed through the doors.

Father’s attendants and secretaries bustled in the cavernous entryway. I blinked against the flurry of activity and chaotic decor—Persian rugs and antique wooden desks interspersed with glowing tech and translucent screens that lowered from the ceiling.

An older-looking man jumped at my appearance. “Young Master Orpheus.”

All activity ceased. The staff members jumped to their feet to bow in near unison as they echoed the words. “Young Master Orpheus.”

I gritted my teeth. I hadn’t forgotten the level of subservience that Father—and Mother, for that matter—expected, but remembering and experiencing were different. These weren’t Grays who’d been programmed to serve. They were Yellows and Blues—Helixes who’d earned their rank and held a status of their own. But here, their humanity meant nothing.

It still rankled, but I couldn’t let myself be distracted from the goal. Quanta was waiting. “I’m here to see my father.”