“Quiet first steps: Strengthen, if not formalize our alliance with the entire Mars colony, not solely Bronzeville. Then escalate a trade embargo against O.E. for operating in bad faith. We stop dealing with them in any way.” Wachiru is either naive or oblivious. He charts a course he perceives as one of reason and sensibility, inadvertently isolating himself. He should dismiss the council for individual deliberation and meditation to reconvene later. Allow time for heads to cool. The heat of the moment is where Maulana lives.

“So talk and then take away their toys?” Maulana sucks his teeth, not bothering to hide his disgust. Much of the room joins in this rising chorus of disdain.

“The only thing spanking a child teaches is more violence.”

“Nice words to hide behind. But they cannot distract from the fact that your ‘punishments’ do not go far enough, Wachiru. If their actions have earned a minimal response, we should begin any ‘negotiations’ with sanctions.”

“If. This is what we mean.” Wachiru fixes his heavy-lidded gaze on him. “There is too much ‘if’ for us to move forward too quickly.”

“Besides, Mars will never go along,” Jaha says.

“Who cares if they don’t?” Maulana whirls toward her. Recognizing her as an elder, he lowers the temperature of his tone. “We have always gone our own way. Never beholden to the idea that we might offend erstwhile allies. I say we take a further step and increase our defensive capabilities.”

“We need to take these options to the full Ijo.” Wachiru now strides about the dais with an air of authority. “In the meanwhile, what of Amachi?”

You snap back to full attention at the mention of your name. All eyes turn to you. “What of me?”

“We need more information. Your instincts have served you well, so far. We would recommend sending you out to continue your investigation.” Wachiru cocks his head a little, and in that moment reminds you so much of Xola you want to run over and throw your arms around his neck and never let go.

“I’m no jeli. I don’t—”

“Where would you go next?” Wachiru presses. His eyes flick toward you, focusing in a way that won’t be denied.

“Oyigiyigi. The mining outpost.”

“Why there?” An odd trace of concern fills Maulana’s voice.

“The only outbound Saqqara were heading there. A would-be assassin, having botched covering up their trail, would put as much distance between themselves and the scene as possible.”

Maulana shifted uneasily. “If the assassin has targeted Amachi once, to have her dog their trail would only invite greater danger.”

“She wouldn’t be alone,” Jaha says. “I’m assigning Ishant to attend her.”

“Ishant?” Maulana turns to her, nearly grinding his teeth. “He hasn’t been read in.”

“Then someone had better read fast, ’cause he’s going,” Jaha said.

“Surely we’re not going to trust an obroni—”