The Iskat establishment preferred to keep things under wraps until they had a result. That would be fine when it wasn’t playing with the safety of all their planets—which, of course, was exactly what Jainan was doing now. He made himself breathe out and explained, surprised by his own steady voice. Taam’s death. The embezzlement. Internal Security’s pressure to find a suspect. Aren and Lunver’s investigation. Professor Audel, whose guilt Jainan had never been sure about. The flybug accident. The odd mass readings from the refinery.

The Auditor leaned back in his chair, inscrutable behind the alien field over his eyes. Jainan couldn’t tell if he was listening. Now that Jainan looked closer, he could see the structure of the eye-covering in more detail: it was anchored by a pair of black, lacquer-like pieces that attached discreetly to the skull on either side of his head, then the field arced unsupported across his face. The visual effect of the non-colors was undeniable; Jainan’s eyes actively hurt examining it.

“You think the remnants are in this mining refinery?” the Auditor asked.

“Would they cause a mass distortion?” Jainan said.

“No,” the Auditor said thoughtfully. “Nothing noticeable on the basic sensors you have here.”

Jainan forced himself to say it. “I think he may have sold them. They may be on the Sefalan black market.” If they were, it would take more than four days to find them. “They may even have already gone through the link.”

“Possible but unlikely,” the Auditor said. “No ship goes through a link without a scout to pilot it. It takes complex measures to smuggle a remnant on board the same ship as a scout without them noticing, and I doubt this backwater

is capable of that level of sophistication. Ah,” he added dryly, as the colors shifted on his face. “I have been notified that I shouldn’t have deprioritized my etiquette module. Accept my apologies.”

“I am not overly concerned with apologies,” Jainan said, the underlying dread making him blunt. “What does this mean for the treaty?”

The Auditor folded his hands in silence. As he did so, Jainan was suddenly aware of the absolute, deadening silence in the chamber. On a station there was always the background hum of life support systems, but here it was as quiet as deep space.

“The situation is interesting,” the Auditor said. “By not presenting the remnants by the deadline, Iskat has broken our nonproliferation terms.”

Jainan’s veins ran with acid. He said nothing.

“Thea’s representative, on the other hand, is trying to work with us.” The Auditor’s voice was a soft monotone in the stillness. “If the Iskat Empire is no longer a Resolution signatory … other arrangements could be made.”

And just like that, the crystal shape of the treaty in Jainan’s mind shattered into seven parts. “You mean cut Iskat loose. Draw up a separate treaty.”

“It would have to be done fast,” the Auditor said. “It is unwise to be outside the Resolution for any length of time.”