Jainan was so far out of his depth, it felt like someone had punched a hole in the hull of the Auditor’s ship, and he was hanging over the void. “The remnants need to be found. There are still four days until your deadline. You could extend it.”

The Auditor regarded him. Then he reached for the corner of his desk and gave it a gentle push; the whole thing slid smoothly out of the way, lining itself up against the wall, leaving nothing in between him and Jainan. He put his hand up and touched one of the lacquered pieces on the side of his head. The field around his eyes changed and faded.

Behind the field—though some distortion remained—his features came into view. His face was spare and space-pale, with prominent cheekbones and shockingly normal dark brown eyes. It should have been reassuring. Jainan was profoundly unsettled.

“You should make terms,” the Auditor said. Something about his voice was thinner, as if there had been extra harmonics before. “I say this not as role four-seven-five, or any of my committee roles, but as a human citizen. I’m not supposed to do that, you understand. How much Galactic politics are you aware of back here?”

At the question, Jainan felt like a village fisherman who had never left Thea.

He knew of some of the megapowers, but Galactic politics were too far away to be of much concern on Thea when Iskat was right on their doorstep. “Not a great deal.”

“You should understand your threats,” the Auditor said. “I know the Iskat Emperor does. The megapowers have been chafing for decades—after all the consolidation last century, there are very few tiny sectors like yours not protected by a Resolution treaty. Do you understand what that means? Some hungry powers are looking for places to expand, and there is almost no fair game. No new links have opened in the last thirteen years.”

Jainan wished Kiem was here to ask questions. He had a knack for picking the obvious ones that clarified things. Why had Kiem turned off his wristband?

“Why are they expanding?” he said. “I thought the Resolution was supposed to keep things in balance.”

The Auditor laughed—a strange, dry sound, as if he didn’t produce it much.

“Do you know how big a territory the High Chain rules?” he said. “You’re sitting here with seven planets and a total population in the low billions. The High Chain owns a third of the known universe. Without assistive tech, the human brain cannot effectively comprehend either their population or the distance between their borders. The Resolution was drawn up by a balance of megapowers. We are a skeleton group overseeing a fragile truce. Do you really think the Resolution isn’t, itself, half under the Chain’s influence?”

“Oh,” Jainan said.