“The Ministers won’t refuse?”

“The Ministers need that data more than you do.” I set the empty clock down. I sat back in my chair and beamed at him. “What do you think?”

He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, studying me. Cautious son-of-a-bitch. I dearly hoped he’d challenge me.

He lifted his head like a bull raising his horns. There was the challenge! “We still have sufficient data to put to use medically, and against the Ministers,” he said. “The complete data would be preferable but the Republic won’t fail if we don’t have it. I’m not interested in a risky gamble, Mr. Wren.”

“Right,” I said. “I forgot to mention; you’ll do what I say or I’ll expose you.”

“You have no proof of any wrongdoing.”

“Senator Ketel,” I said. “Todd. After Quint died, I inherited all her things. You two have a lot of interesting correspondence about very illegal activities. Some bank accounts, some files, some secret offices… No point in shutting any of those down now, I’ve already gathered my proof,” I added. “I have this one friend who knows a lot about the Republican legal system, and this other friend who thinks Republican technological security is laughably outdated.”

He leaned onto his desk, hands steepled over the pile of gears from his disassembled clock. If he hadn’t been a murdering piece of shit, I might’ve almost felt bad for him.

I reached over the desk to clap him on the shoulder, firm and friendly grip. “You think it over,” I told him kindly. “Just remember, there’s every reason to say yes, and no reason to refuse. You can contact me via this,” and I placed a little communicator on his desk that Benny had made and Indigo had improved, “when you’ve come to terms with what you need to do. I promise I won’t even stick an implant in your skull.”

I left on my own, letting him process that alongside the wreckage of his gorgeous vintage clock.

The Viper was parked where I’d left it, on the outskirts of a spaceport, landed neatly on a concrete landing zone beneath a broad empty blue sky. I was really good at getting past Republican security, after all, and it wasn’t like Senator Ketel had been able to report the existence of the ship to any authorities. Tamara and Indigo were waiting for me by the airlock door. She had her face tilted up to the sun, beatific, her jack-o-lantern eyes crinkled at the corners. Indigo watched me advance and when I was near, he gave me a smile as soft as a gentle night breeze. In casual human clothes, he could pass for human from a distance.

“Did it work?” he asked.

“Exactly like we expected,” I said. Tamara stopped luxuriating in the sun long enough to smirk. “Where do we want to go? We should probably clear out of town, just in case he decides to try something.”

“I don’t care where we go, as long as we can get food,” Tamara said. “And Sean, you got a message from someone. I think it was addressed to you, anyway. It was written in Kystrene.”