AUGUST 2379.

TORONTO, CANADA.

News of the termination spread quickly through the Stryker ranks. Three days since the two Stryker teams had gone missing, and the World Court hadn't thought anything about giving the kill order. The OIC of the Strykers Syndicate had no choice but to obey. That Ciari became the focus of everyone's fear and hatred was nothing new. That she let herself feel it? That was new.

"It's terribly illegal, I know, to want to murder him," Ciari said tiredly, thinking about Erik. "But it would make me feel better."

"You don't like to feel," Jael said as she looked at where Ciari stood in front of a wall filled with vidscreens all streaming different programs in the OIC's office. "You prove that fact over and over again. Why are you choosing today to keep your shields down?"

Jael was angry. It was in the burr of her voice, pressing against the power of Ciari's mind, difficult to ignore. She had every right to be, Ciari thought as her eyes tracked over the dozen or so news streams before her. Every right, and then some. It still didn't mean anything to her despite her empathetic power.

"I knew he would ask for their deaths," Ciari said. "Threnody made too many mistakes during the last few missions. She was on the watch list after Madrid and the botched transfer."

"She and the other teams working with her still got back the stolen crude oil, got it off the trucks, back onto the train, and on its way back to the processing plant in Andorra."

"They lost half of it."

"They still salvaged the rest."

"Doesn't matter. It was still enough of a commotion that the press got wind of it and the government had to do some heavy spin duty to make them look the other way. Propaganda is all well and good, but the government doesn't control every news stream."

Jael shook her head, disgust making her voice sharper than usual. "You set Threnody up for failure with this current mission. That blip on the grid turned out to be a Class I triad psion-a rarity-and there's no one in our ranks capable of handling someone like that; not and actually survive the encounter intact."

"The target never previously read as a Class I in all the time we tracked it. It never read as Lucas Serca."

"That's a piss-fucking-poor excuse if I've ever heard one and I've heard many. You knew the target had to be dangerous if none of us could pin it down."

Ciari finally turned to face her subordinate, gaze cool. "Everyone in this world is dangerous to someone, Jael. We needed what Threnody could possibly get us, suicide mission or not."

"And what would that be other than two dead teams?"

"A chance. Keiko brought back human bodies from Russia carrying neurotrackers assigned to the missing four."

"I know. I did the autopsies, remember? Best-case scenario is that our Strykers were killed elsewhere, which is better than being tortured. Worst-case scenario is that they're hostages of a rogue Class I triad psion, either being tortured or reprogrammed. You pick."

Over the decades, the Sercas had mastered the skill of hiding their presence on bioscanners and the mental grid, able to project themselves as something they weren't when they had to, which meant their ability to murder unsuspecting Strykers made them formidable enemies. They had passed on that skill to every psion that joined their ranks as a Warhound who had the power to uphold the charade. Ciari had no way of knowing if Lucas Serca was still within the Slums of the Angels or even in Russia. She had no way to confirm if her Strykers were truly dead. The Strykers in the field were still searching in America and Russia for answers, as well as scouring London as discreetly as they could since the government had contacted them about the riot. It was anyone's guess if they would ever know the truth.

"Why let this happen, Ciari?" Jael asked quietly from behind her. "You have the means to work around problems like this. If we had coordinated with Nathan before this happened-"

"No." Ciari cut her off. "We had no other choice."

"I think you're lying."

Ciari let out a low, tired chuckle and carefully raised her shields. "You think?"

"All right, I know you're lying." Jael stepped up beside Ciari and looked at her instead of the vidscreens. "You usually appeal every kill order handed down to you, just to have it on record, and it takes a while. It doesn't change a thing-it never has and never will-but it's a sick tradition every OIC has kept. You didn't with these four. Why change the way you do things now?"

Ciari kept quiet long enough that Jael knew she wouldn't get an answer. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jael turned away from the other woman and headed for the door.

"I'll add their names to our list of the dead," Jael said.

"Don't." Ciari glanced over her shoulder. "Not yet."

"They deserve that much, if not more."

"I know. I'm not saying they don't, but if you put their names on that list, we close out their lives. We can't do that until we've got something to report to the World Court."

"Give us our fucking right to grieve, Ciari."

"You only get that right when we've got bodies to burn, and even then only with the government's say-so. They're alive, Jael, and we need to find them. Until we do, they will be listed as rogue status in our records and that won't change. It can't change, do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Jael bit out.

"Good."

Jael strode out of the office, leaving Ciari alone with her thoughts and the twenty-four-hour news stream. Rubbing at the back of her neck, she sighed and turned away from the vidscreens. Retreating to her desk, Ciari dug through the data chips that cluttered one corner, finally finding the one she needed for her next meeting. In her searching, one fell off the desk, and she bent to retrieve it.

Holding it between two fingers, Ciari peered at each side of the data chip. It wasn't shaped like the government chips that they normally used. Clear, with no file number of any sort written on the outside, it was unusual in its blankness. She was never sure when these particular data chips would appear on her desk, but she never questioned their arrival. She'd been getting these data chips at intermittent intervals over the last five years. They always made for a better read than any orders the government sent her.

She put it in her pocket.

Hours later, when she found the time to read the information it held, on a datapad that wasn't synced to any system or acknowledged by the grid, the heavily encrypted message would only be two sentences long: You know that chance I took? It's paying off.

The encrypted reply she saved to it was even shorter: Good.

In the morning, the data chip was gone from her desk. Ciari didn't question that, either.

[TEN].

AUGUST 2379.

SAPPORO, JAPAN.

There was a phrase in this country's language for what Nathan was doing: nemawashi. Formally confirming what had informally been proposed, even if it was still all under the table until the press report went out. Corporate mergers never really came as a surprise to the public. The reason behind every single one was always neatly detailed for anyone to read, though it was the oral agreements that really mattered. Those were the deals that were never recorded. Every businessman and woman seated around the long conference table had come for just such a promise. Nathan Serca's word was better than that of most. His family had spent decades making sure that they were indispensable to the world's needs. This was no different.

Jin Li stepped into the windowless conference room, wearing a severe business suit that wouldn't hamper his movements at all, and a single gun on his hip. Casing the room with a glance over the top of his dark glasses, he pulled a small gray sphere out of his pocket and walked over to the only empty seat at the long table. He pressed two buttons on the side of the sphere, activating it. A green light blinked on and the jamming sequence cut off all vidfeed coming from the security points built into the wall and all recording devices scattered around the table.

"We said no records," Jin Li said, voice flat and dangerous as Nathan finally stepped into the conference room.

"Apologies," said Sydney Athe, the venerable old man rising to his feet with the use of a heavy, ornate cane. "This room is set automatically for recording every time it's in use. I did not think to check that it had been deactivated."

Nathan offered the head of the Athe Syndicate a polite smile as the man's grandson and successor, Elion Athe, stood to help his grandfather sit back down.

The Athe Syndicate was much like the Serca Syndicate in its survival of the Border Wars to become what it was today. The family had been trapped in Sapporo on a business trip during that horrific time, and of all the islands that belonged to Japan, only Hokkaideo had managed to survive partly intact. The Athe family had made themselves indispensable to the survivors of the country and learned to thrive. Elion's father, Travis, was a member of the World Court, and for that alone they would have been allowed into the Registry. Additionally, their genetics were clean, which was a bonus, and their success in aeronautics and space science was worth the delicate dance the Serca family had done with the Athe Syndicate for the past four generations.

"Ladies, gentlemen," Nathan began as he took his seat at the head of the conference table. "Mistakes happen. Just be aware that I do not tolerate them more than once. Our business tonight is far too important to allow our final decisions to fall into outside hands. None of us desires the spotlight for this little addendum of our merger."

Sydney nodded agreement. "The announcement is set to hit the news in the morning. The Athe Syndicate will become a subsidiary of the Serca Syndicate, but I will retain the position as CEO with the understanding that all final decisions will be left up to you, as we agreed."

"As it should be, for what we've offered you," Nathan said. "The additional berths on the Ark we've agreed to sell you means that when the time comes, you will support us on Mars."

"Of course," Sydney said, looking Nathan straight in the eye when no one else would. It wasn't the Japanese way to get straight to the point, but Sydney still retained some of the mannerisms of his Western ancestors. "A deal is a deal, Nathan. My family will be whatever you need us to be, so long as you take us with you."

It was funny how desperation could make anyone willing to sell his soul. Nathan spread his hands over the datapad he had brought with him, keying in his biometrics to open it. Files appeared beneath his fingertips and he tapped at the only one he needed. The executed merger agreement filled his screen, and Nathan perused all the signatures that had brought him here.

"There will be a meeting for all the subsidiaries of the Serca Syndicate at the beginning of September. Keep your calendars clear. I will send you the confirmed date once I've met again with the World Court." Nathan looked up, his gaze sweeping across the table, capturing everyone's eyes. "I expect the transfer to run smoothly."

"Do you anticipate any difficulties?" Elion asked, his green eyes startlingly odd in a face whose features were predominantly Japanese.

"I plan for all possible avenues, which means you will be ready. If you are not, you forfeit the seats you asked for and I will sell them to someone else. Whoever you hope to bring with you will be left behind. As you know, there are only so many seats available, and my Syndicate is in control of at least half. Not every registered human is going to be on those ships."

"But enough will," Sydney said. "And you are more than capable of keeping everyone in line."

Nathan's smile was indulgent. "Always."

Sydney banged his cane down once on the floor, nodding at those who worked for him. "Leave us. You have your assurances."

All the men and women around the table except Elion got to their feet and bowed, first to Sydney, then to Nathan, before filing out past Jin Li. None of them bothered to hide their disgust for Nathan's bodyguard, and it had little to do with his slouching against the wall.

During the Border Wars, China had fared worse than most countries outside of Africa and the Middle East. Already saddled with a near impossible population density living off hugely strained natural resources and with a toxicity level that was already dangerous before the first bomb fell, China spiraled into devastation faster than most other countries. Like the rest of the world, it wasn't the radiation poisoning that killed off most of the population. That would be the starvation, the disease, and the mass deaths in the countryside that surrounded the craters most major cities had become.

The survivors had no choice but to relocate, and the Chinese numbered more than their neighbors, even after the last bomb fell. Southeastern Asia still had pockets of ethnic minorities from the countries they had once been, but they were ruled by the Chinese now. Japan had patrolled the East China Sea for over 150 years, refusing any and all refugees looking for port that came out of what China had become. No love was lost between the two countries and Jin Li knew it.

Jin Li smiled at every person who walked out the door, then spat on the floor behind the heels of the last woman out. The door slid shut before any of them could voice their anger.

"Your children have better manners than your guard," Elion said coolly as he eyed Jin Li from where he sat.

"Jin Li has his uses, or don't you remember the last time we came calling?" Nathan arched one pale eyebrow. Elion swallowed his anger with appropriate swiftness as he recalled the businessman whom Jin Li had summarily executed after Nathan discovered his treachery. Corporate spies were annoying, and that one hadn't been worth the effort of reprogramming.

"I see that you do," Nathan said. "It's always refreshing to deal with people who know when to keep their mouths shut."

"What more do you require from us?" Sydney said slowly.

Nathan leaned back in his chair and touched the screen of his datapad with one finger. Another list, this one detailing every known city and company Lucas had hit in the past two years. The Athe Syndicate numbered high on that list, beneath all the Serca-owned branches his son had gone to.

"Your Syndicate built the satellites that the World Court sent out fifty years ago to Mars," Nathan said. "I want you to go through your security records for the past two years and do a facial recognition search. You will be looking for Lucas."

Sydney frowned. "For what reason?"

"Because we psions cannot hide from machines and I want to know what he was searching for."

"Why would your son have broken into our Syndicate?" Elion asked.

"Lucas is no longer my son."

This telling response caused Elion and Sydney to share a brief, sharp glance. Nathan knew what they were thinking, and he allowed them to think it. This was a calculated dispersal of information, seeds that needed to be sown. Nathan's own mother had disclosed the Serca family's true nature to the heads of the Athe family years and years ago to make them think that the Sercas needed them. Sometimes secrets were the best bargaining chips when used appropriately.

"Two years of security feed," Sydney said. "Give us a week to do a thorough review of all our holdings. I will send Elion in person to London with the results once we have them."

"That is acceptable." Nathan pushed himself to his feet. "The launch date may be moved up, depending on certain timetables that the World Court is relying on. If it does, you and your family will personally be brought to London. I can promise you that."

"I thank you."

"I don't do it out of need or some sense of generosity." Nathan offered Sydney a mocking smile. "I do it because I can. Your family is useful. Continue to be useful and maybe you will survive another generation."

The men Nathan left behind were smart enough to heed this warning. Their ability to bend was part of the reason why Nathan had chosen to bring them under Serca control through this merger and why Nathan kept them there. The Athes had always been useful to someone.

Jin Li followed Nathan out of the conference room and down the ornately decorated hallway of the Athe Syndicate's executive suite. A security guard bowed as they stepped into a lift that went to the roof, where their shuttle sat on the landing platform, engines on standby and guarded by Gideon.

"You're not supposed to be here," Nathan said pointedly to his son after Nathan and Jin Li climbed into the shuttle beneath the morning sunlight.

"No one saw me arrive when I teleported into your shuttle," Gideon assured him. "And this needed to be reported in person."

"I take it you finally have what I told you to find?" Nathan shook his head as he sat down in his seat and buckled on the harness. "Three days late."

"I wanted to be sure." Gideon took a seat opposite Nathan and hooked himself into the harness there. "I found something of interest."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Get to the point."

"You asked about the Strykers that Lucas picked up out of the Slums." Gideon pulled a data chip from his shirt pocket and passed it over to Nathan telekinetically. "Jin Li fought two of them in Johannesburg thirty-four days prior to the skirmish in the Slums. Threnody Corwin is a Class III electrokinetic. Her partner, Quinton Martinez, is a Class III pyrokinetic."

"That's not unusual."

"She ordered her partner and the teams she commanded in Johannesburg not to pursue Jin Li when he escaped with the children we had targeted at the school there."