The Eye reached for his mask as he walked, seals hissing as they released. He pulled it from his head in an easy movement, revealing his smooth gray skin and those unnerving eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. Lourna noticed that he had let a light beard grow on his cheeks. That was new, although the look in his eyes was old. Disappointment. Rage.

Ro stopped in front of Pan and held out his helmet, not a challenge but an expectation. Pan tried to keep his head up as he took the helm, reduced to little more than a servant in the blink of an eye. The Dowutin stepped back, cowed, letting Ro pass. The Eye took in Lourna and Zeetar, uttering their names in greeting before stopping to appraise the Talpini’s powersuit.

“You’ve upgraded. Most impressive, wouldn’t you say, Pan?” He didn’t turn to face the Dowutin when he spoke.

“Yeah,” Pan grumbled. “It’s great.”

“Your mission?” Lourna asked, not to change the subject but only to prolong Pan’s humiliation. “Was it a success?”

“Beyond anything I could have wished for.”

“And Udi Dis? Did he serve you well?”

He didn’t answer, searching her face for a moment before stepping away from the three Tempest Runners, his leather cloak billowing.

“How have things been going here? The work on the Path-jumpers?”

“Proceeding as planned,” Zeetar replied eagerly. “We need a field test, but—”

“That will come,” Ro promised, turning to Lourna. “And the other cells?”

“Lying low, as per your instructions.”

He stopped, seemingly studying the star map Lourna had mounted along the far wall. “Ah, yes, my instructions. Tell me, Pan. Have you been following my instructions? Because we had a firm strategy, didn’t we? A plan that everyone bought into. Zeetar. Lourna. You. No major strikes for the foreseeable future, nothing that would draw attention to us. Nothing that will prompt a reaction. You abided by that, didn’t you Pan? You kept your end of the bargain?”

Pan took a step forward, glaring at the Eye’s back. “Ro, listen … we need to talk. There needs to be—”

Lourna didn’t know what Ro did, whether he clicked a control on his gauntlet or pulled a device from his belt. All she knew was that there was a click and energy crackled from the helmet in Pan’s hands, flowing up his thick arms. He toppled like a great oak, his body convulsing.

Ro simply turned and strolled almost nonchalantly back to his tormented lieutenant.

“There needs to be change? Is that what you were going to say, Pan?” The Dowutin couldn’t respond, his jaw locked as the energy surged through his body. Ro was standing over him now, a control unit in his hand. “You’re right, of course. There does have to be change. Change to the lies that spew from that mouth of yours.”