“That’s all you’ve ever been. Look at your track record. A cutout for other people’s beliefs, all in the name of sounding like your own man. You are an empty suit,” Lebna said.

“You barely exist,” Ishant said.

“But here’s what we know about our suspect. He’s a member of the Niyabinghi. Served in the Dreaming City. Among the personal escort of the Ijo.”

“I’m telling you, there’s no record of him. No gen-ident. No Maya file. Not even holovid beyond what were captured since we apprehended him. Even then, there’s no match within our database or any shared with Titan, though we’re still waiting on O.E.”

“O.E.?” Matata asked with the thrum of apprehension.

“Let’s just say we have back channels. Some that even they aren’t aware of,” Ishant said.

“Do they have similar back channels?” Lebna turned to him.

“That’s what we’re here to find out.” Ishant enlarged the files in front of Matata. His movement, prior to the bombing. Being recalled to the Dreaming City. The movements of a data ghost, tracked by being invisible. Then fleeing to Oyigiyigi once Amachi dogged his trail. “All of my collected data is right here. What story would you have us read?”

“It’s simple, really,” Matata began in a low, not-quite-resigned tone. “We need to bring Muungano to the table. But you all are so damn proud. Self-sufficient. Don’t have to take anything from anybody. Doing things on your terms or your timetable. Calling yourselves ‘free’ when all you are is arrogant. Blind as Xola. You can’t see your need for others, even against an overwhelming threat.”

“The unknown is not a threat,” Lebna said.

“Now you’re just being naive. Oyigiyigi. Bronzeville. The Dreaming City. All of Muungano has to reunify. Partner with LISC. One way or another, you’ll be brought to the table so that we can form a united Earth alliance. That is the only way we’ll be strong enough to face the coming storm.”

There it was: the story Matata wanted to tell. Young, smart, ambitious, he got caught up in O.E. and their games. Never understood that he swam with sharks. The kind that would use him for their own ends before leaving him to be devoured. If they didn’t devour him themselves. Ishant shut off the images. They had all they needed. Only a few loose threads remained.

“Weaning ourselves from supremacist and colonialist thought, ways and ideas so deeply entrenched it might take several lifetimes to truly liberate ourselves from. So that in becoming free of our oppressors, we don’t carry on the work of our oppressors.” Lebna’s tone was a low, sad thing, full of pity. “Did you have a hand in Fela’s execution?”

Matata sank into his seat, neither defeated nor defiant. “No.”

“Did you play a role in Amachi’s crash?”

“No.”