It’s too biased an offer. There’s a catch or a trap here.

“You saved our world, you get something. Good acts are rewarded.”

“And we sign deals of cooperation that keep us out of your way? Thank you, it’s a kind offer, but no.”

“You should take the offer, Ashley,” Chris said.

“No,” Ashley said, more hostile now.

Luis spread his arms. “That’s fine. We’ll figure something else out. Thank you, Ashley Stillons, Swansong.”

Was that an official dismissal? We announced ourselves with our names and we were asked to leave with the same, like a parent rebuking a child with their full name?

Either way, Ashley backed off. Kenzie put an arm around Ashley’s waist.

“You’re maneuvering aggressively, if you don’t mind my saying so,” Miss Militia said.

“These are aggressive times,” Yosef said. “We thought we had an ally we could work with, and now we hear she’s unreliable. She did something in the past and she’s done it again.”

“If I may—” Amy started.

“You may not,” Luis said.

Again, that light in the eyes, the intensity, like someone riding a high.

Luis was supposedly on our side, but… he’d been close to Goddess, acting as a bodyguard or accompaniment, there’d been a hint that he had powers, by the way he’d held himself, and now he was aggressively maneuvering, as Miss Militia had put it.

“You chose to speak to Swansong,” Miss Militia said. “I would suggest you speak to the others?”

“No need,” Yosef said. “Amy Dallon Lavere made her attempt at explaining herself to us before you arrived. She failed. We spoke to Swansong because she had the potential to be the worst of you.”

Ashley rankled visibly at that.

“We will speak to you because you’re the best of them,” Luis added.

“Then tell me, we were talking trade, you wanted to ask some questions of Breakthrough and get some perspective before moving forward.”

“We did. They have our goodwill.”

“Then can we talk about trade?”

“We can. I’ll start with the term you’ll find most objectionable. Whatever we agree on, the people we send to you with supplies, materials, or anything else will stay in Gimel.”

“Stay. As residents?”

“As residents. It should be only a team of five or ten per shipment. We only have so many that can comfortably speak your language. You get far more in the way of housing than you’d see occupied. More in food than they could ever eat.”

Chris spoke, his voice low. “They want to send you people who’ll keep an eye on parahumans, keep them in their sights—”

He mimed picking up and holding a gun.

“That’s insane,” Miss Militia said.

“Parahumans unchecked is insane,” Yosef replied. “We desire a measure of security. If you’re good and just, you have nothing to fear.”

“This is why the Coalition is gone?” Miss Militia asked.