Chapter 12 #2
A memory surfaced: her mother, years ago, in the backyard, flame pulsing between her fingers.
Sophia always said the difference between a weapon and a tool lies in who decides when it’s used.
At the time, it sounded like a lesson about responsibility.
But it was actually about control—something Audrey lacked.
She had never told anyone that she watched her mother manipulate flames, not even Cary.
Who knew what else her mother could do to make herself so valuable?
“You’re wrong. I’m nothing compared to my mother. I can’t control fire.”
“Then ask yourself why your mother wants you eliminated or locked away forever.”
“We don’t know what she wants. Not for sure.” Still, Audrey’s mouth thinned, bitterness rising. Her mother had let her take the fall—and did nothing to help her escape prison. The ache of abandonment pulsed behind every word.
They turned into the warehouse corridor. Corrugated steel, broken windows, and loading docks abandoned decades ago greeted them. Every few seconds, Emerson’s eyes flicked over to her.
“You really believe I’m more than just a telepath,” she stated. “And you’re afraid of me, of which side I’ll choose—aren’t you?” Audrey probed, pressing Emerson to reveal his true feelings.
“I’m afraid you’ll decide you don’t need to choose any side. People like you rarely do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Audrey asked, indignant.
“Because you might be more powerful on your own. Which is why I think your mother wants you dead.”
Emerson was making sense. “But that would make me just as much of a risk as her,” Audrey said. “You contain risk.”
He exhaled slowly. “Containment always fails eventually. We’re working on a new system that would change those strategies.”
Audrey didn’t question him. While she wanted to further evaluate the structure of his ideology, their trust was even more fragile now.
Because a fracture line lay clean between them, and neither wanted to admit it out loud.
They were at a metaphorical crossroads. Sides would need to be taken—and fast.
The center of the warehouse district loomed ahead. Silence fell as they parked two blocks from the target building.
Audrey opened her door and shivered; the cold burrowed deeper here, closer to the river.
She stepped closer to Emerson, purposefully invading the last inches of space.
Audrey’s aura moved to read his mind. His defenses rose instantly.
They were structured and disciplined, as usual.
But he let her see a sliver beneath them—the place called Nomac.
The whole planet consisted of a single unified civilization—one big city, it seemed.
Then, she saw the memories as he did, with cascading red alerts and systemic collapses.
There was a sense of failure to contain.
“So, you’ve seen Ryker before?” she whispered.
“No, I’ve seen what happens around Ryker. In three systems, people reported his presence before failures occurred. He didn’t use words, but everyone said it was like a foreign pressure in their skull. Most of them later recanted or disappeared.”
Audrey didn’t like the sound of that. “If Ryker operates outside your oversight,” she said slowly, “then he can do whatever he wants.”
“You catch on quick. He operates at a scale most authorities won’t publicly admit.” Wind scraped across steel beams, accentuating his bitterness. “Ryker doesn’t matter right now, though. What matters is executing this plan. If we’re fast, we can get Sophia before anyone else.”
Her eyes narrowed at the edge in his voice. “This is far too personal to you. Do your superiors know?”
“Doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t trust anyone but myself to do this without making mistakes. Not when it comes to her.”
They reached the warehouse corner. Emerson’s face stayed focused ahead on one building in the corridor.
He pulled up the final authorization tree.
This time, Audrey saw the stakes clearly.
At the Aggregate central relay in the middle of the tablet, Emerson needed to activate the operational risk flag with two-factor authentication.
“Once this goes live,” he said, almost to himself, “you stop being an individual anomaly.”
His hand slid around her waist briefly—anchoring her, or grounding himself, she wasn’t sure which. The contact was firm and intimate without permission. “Don’t even think about walking away,” he murmured, his mouth brushing near her ear.
“I don’t want to,” she turned her head to his, and they stared at each other for a few moments. Then, without breaking eye contact, his thumb hit the black “alert” button.
It was instant. Broadcast authorization confirmed.
Beyond Tolusa—beyond Earth—a system of interconnected surveillance points activated.
She watched as an Aggregate HQ outpost on Naamia signals towers across dozens of moon colonies, and even back-end government terminals in distant quadrants lit up in response.
Seeing it all unfold in real time meant their plan was no longer contained.
Any group with authority or a stake in Aggregate security would be on alert, tracking movements, and ready to intervene.
For them, exposure was total. Every second from now on carried the risk of interception or confrontation.
What surprised her most was how comprehensive their grip on security was. No one could move beyond Earth unnoticed.
The scale was staggering.
Emerson scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “Someone’s watching the relay in real time,” he said. “And they’re not on Earth.”
“Internal Aggregate?”
He hesitated. “Most likely.”
The tablet flashed again with a new notification. Priority escalation request.
“This just went above my clearance,” Emerson muttered. “They’re moving fast. We’d better hope Sophia shows herself soon.”
The warehouse windows stood black ahead. Empty, or waiting. Emerson started toward them anyway. Inside his pocket, the tablet chimed again. He pulled it out, and Audrey stole a glance over his shoulder.
A second signal had appeared on the relay. It wasn’t a person simply receiving the messages—they were moving in response to it.
Someone had already responded to the trap.