“So what do you think it is?”

“Working theory is still that yes, it was probably some kind of observer platform, but there’s no reason to assume it was Sigurd’s.”

“Just another shell looking for the beacon.”

She shrugs. “We can assume that Hasei wasn’t the only company that caught wind of it. Sending an observer would be an obvious choice.”

“An observer, rather than a flight of Mirais.”

“Not much reason to send both.”

“Especially if it turned tail as soon as it heard you,” I reply. “All right. Probably not Sigurd, then.”

“Probably not.” She sighs, slumps in her seat. “You were right about the beacon, by the way. I ghosted it, but only for an hour or so. Fudged the logs to match.”

“How did you manage that? There must’ve been fifty people in there.”

“There were. Kadi helped me.”

“What?”

“I told you, he’s been dealt with.”

Oh. “You blackmailed him.”

Her jaw sets a hard line on that. “He could hear me, you know. When we first showed up in your block, and he had that nugget rolling in. He heard everything I sent. He knew we were working on a plan to de-escalate. I’ve got recordings to prove it, a couple of rebel ’draggers that’ll back my account.”

“He risked two shells and three jockeys. For what?”

“For a quickfix. For a chance to have the Juno out of his hair.”

“Fuck, Hail. Why isn’t this getting passed up the line? Where’s Internal Affairs?”

She shakes her head. “IA or Tower would just put someone new in his place.”

“Someone who didn’t know the rules?” I can’t keep the bitterness out.

“This is how it works out here, Rook. I’ve got to use what I’ve got, and what I’ve got right now is Kadi. He used to hold it over me—now I can do the same to him.” She sketches it out on the table with her fingertip. “It’s the circle of life.”

I rub my eyes, but it doesn’t help. “Why go through all the trouble?”

“With Kadi?”

“With Sigurd’s beacon.” I take a sip of coffee. It’s like rising from the dead. “NorCol got it in the end anyway.”

“Two reasons. One, to get a look at the logs on that thing. As soon as inspection picked it up, they’d have lost it somewhere, same as everything else we recover. I needed first-touch.” She drums a finger on the tabletop, rolling something over in her head, and working her jaw to match. “How long do you think Horizon has been out here?”

I blink. “Here? As in, right here?” I chew on it. “Fifty years? A hundred?”