I was quiet for a moment, considering my words. “SPEC isn’t going to admit their part in getting back aboard, are they? Is anybody even asking how three hundred people slipped through border checkpoints and stole a ship?”

“There are quite a lot of questions going officially unanswered.”

“Will they tell people about the parasite? Or release the rest of the messages Dr. Lago recovered?”

“There are no plans to do so at this time,” my aunt said. She was watching the screen, although I did not know that she was seeing it.

“Don’t fuck around with me, Auntie.” The words sounded more tired than angry, but it worked. She looked at me sharply, eyebrows raised. “I spent ten years lying to make things easier for them. If I’m expected to do it again, you should probably tell me what I’m supposed to lie about.”

I could not guess what Aunt Padmavati saw when she looked at me then, but her expression was not one of shock or disapproval or disappointment. Instead of answering, she said thoughtfully, “I remember them, you know. Dr. Lago and Dr. Dove. I met them before he left for House of Wisdom. It was one of those tiresome ceremonial dinners. Everybody else was there because it was an obligation, but Gregory Lago was delighted. He took so much joy in his research, in sharing it, in hearing what others were doing. In what he might discover.”

A pause, and she looked past me, turning her gaze to the view over Armstrong City.

“There have been a great many meetings lately about what the public does and does not need to know. I’ve not been invited to all of them,” she said.

“But you don’t think they’re going to release the messages from Mournful Evening Song.”

“No.”

“They’re going to keep saying it was a man-made virus. From Earth.”

“Yes.”

“And pretending to look for some anarchist or terrorist group to blame. Probably somebody in the wastelands. Somebody who can be blamed without anybody important being implicated.”

“Not overtly, but yes, essentially.”

“They’re going to demand that I lie for them again. Baqir and Xiomara too. Are they threatening Baqir’s citizenship? What do they have to hold over Xiomara?”

“I am not privy to those conversations.”

“But you’re letting them happen.”

My aunt lifted one hand in a defeated gesture. “I don’t know what you think my position entails, but I hardly have the power to unilaterally command the Councils’ decisions. They’ve got quite a bit to argue about. Few people even believe they have the full story of what happened. The fire aboard House of Wisdom, followed by the collision, was so destructive it might be months before we recover anything useful. Zahra Dove Lago did quite a thorough job.”

Her tone was so mild, so calm.

“Zahra had never even been in space before,” I said.