The questions had come, hours of interrogation, his lawyer guiding him. Hadn’t he put the pieces together? Hadn’t he seen? Why hadn’t he asked more questions? He hadn’t looked at what he was delivering to homes even once in the past few years?

No, he’d said. No, he’d never looked. He had never really considered. He had only wanted to exist.

The police had been upset, angry, hostile. His lawyer had been frustrated, because anything, anything at all could have led to a plea deal or him getting off free. His ‘aunt’ and her boyfriend were upset, because they blamed him for their being arrested, and they had used a proxy to threaten him.

He had been sufficiently scared and lost to trigger.

Now he stood guard. He was trying to exist, to do what good he could, and he wanted to pay a little more attention than he once had, even as his power made that very easy on the surface and very difficult when it came to the deeper analysis.

The initial introductions were wrapping up. The theocrats of Cheit were saying a brief prayer, heads bowed.

People settled into their seats, empty seats between groups, serving as a kind of separation.

“War.”

One word. It had been said by the lead theocrat, no preamble, and it was enough to be followed by silence.

“I say it not because I believe in it or want it,” he went on, “But because the people at home wanted me to convey it.”

“We’ve had a strong working relationship thus far,” Jeanne said.

“We have,” the theocrat said.

“Forgive me,” Nieves said. “I’m lost. It came up before, but things got in the way. What exactly is the working relationship?”

Jeanne explained, “Cheit has graciously provided Earth Gimel with supplies for reconstruction. They supplied us with food and other things that enabled us to weather the first winter. A hard season.”

“I remember,” Nieves said. “I know this much. But what exactly did Cheit get in the bargain?”

“Goodwill,” the theocrat said.

“Goodwill?” Nieves asked.

“We have an awful lot of very awful people at our disposal, to put things lightly,” Kiley said. “We don’t really think anyone wants actual war, do we?”

“As I was instructed, I brought it up,” the theocrat said. “It is officially on the table.”

Crystalclear was still, listening. He didn’t miss the glance that Weld and Narwhal shared. Neither of them budged an inch.

“Goodwill is a matter of faith,” Jeanne said. “The understanding was that they would share their excess, out of the goodness of their hearts. We, in turn, would manage our own.”

“Six of Earth Cheit’s citizens are dead. Five godly men and a woman, all with their families. By all accounts, they died in a terrible, protracted way.”

“Because of a broken trigger,” Jeanne said. “Outside of our control. Surely you understand.”