“From their own mouth,” Martin muttered.

“What?”

“A compulsion. Don’t you see, Papa? This is where we get the final proof.” Martin’s voice swelled quickly, like an eager avalanche. “Dominus has given us the answer. We don’t need a set-set’s testimony. If our set-set can’t resist this hit, the enemies’ set-sets can’t either. Harper Morrero, they’re going to try to kill them. We can catch them red-handed!” Martin’s own hands shook at the prospect. “Aldrin, put a team together. I want you to surround this Harper Morrero with a wall of surveillance and invisible defense no one could penetrate.”

Aldrin frowned. “You think they’ll strike now? They must know we’re scrying.”

“If the set-set’s right about its impact, this is bait they can’t resist. Stay untraceable. Don’t let the subject know you’re there, but watch them, listen to them, test their food, their air, everyone that goes near them, have agents ready to intervene at any instant. Our assassins seem to have a lot more than cars at their disposal, so check anything they could use: medical conditions, habits, allergies, emotional instabilities, dangerous pets, old ceiling beams, ex-lovers, anything. Cost is no object; the Emperor will pay if Romanova can’t. I don’t just want to protect the target’s life, I want you ready to detect the attempt when it happens, and to trace it step by step back to the perpetrator. We don’t know when it’ll happen, tomorrow, the next day, in two months or two minutes, but I want us ready. I want enough proof to convict.”

The others looked to Aldrin, who took a long breath, making the coat of stars about her swell. “I want this order to come from Papadelias. We don’t want Utopia to be accused of siding with one Hive against the others. If we do this, we do it for the Alliance Police, not for the Emperor, or you, Martin. Or even for you, Micromegas.” She raised her voice on the last phrase, to make sure her words would carry to His distant, most important ear.

<you see!> the set-set leapt in, as quick as you are, reader, to accuse. <they’re trying to cover their tracks! it’s them. the utopians wanted this exposed. they planned it all! they knew!>

“Enough.”

<think about it, why should they care if the humanists, europeans, and sanling are conspiring against the masons, cousins, and brillists? they aren’t the target, there aren’t even any utopian victims, there can’t be, they use a separate network, and no one would dare target them anyway, because…>

“Because they’d catch them,” Papadelias supplied.

Martin and Papa stared at Aldrin and her peers, waiting for some answer, some comment, but they faced only blank, digital eyes. What do you think they feel as they uncover our sins? These ‘clean’ Utopians? Three Hives targeting three Hives leaves them aloof, like Noah safe in his ark while a sick world drowns. Is that what you think, reader? Noah had assurances from God that he and his would live: infallible, omnipotent protection. Utopia does not. Imagine what fear Noah would have felt without that promise, seeing the waters rising, countless neighbors turning greedy eyes on his small ship.