Venus Time: 10:07, March 25, 2295

  Hall of Eight Benefits (八益殿), The Citadel District, Jin Syue, Northern Venus

  If the reception hall was built to make visitors feel small, it worked.

  Vaulted ceilings held up by black lacquer columns thick as tree trunks, each carved with golden dragons chasing crimson phoenixes, forms so detailed the candlelight made them seem to writhe. The floor was polished obsidian, reflective enough to show Sigrun her own face staring back at her, slightly warped.

  At the far end, on a raised dais draped in crimson silk, a man waited.

  Tall. Sharp-featured. Raven hair swept back from a face that belonged on a coin. He wore a military-cut coat in black with crimson lining, gold embroidery tracing the seams, and a cape with a golden dragon pauldron on the left shoulder. His amber eyes tracked the approaching delegation with the steady interest of a man watching pieces enter a board.

  Two women flanked him.

  The one standing at his right had dark hair pinned up with ornamental clips, heavy-lidded amber eyes, and crimson lips pressed into a line that dared anyone to speak to her first. Her black silk kimono caught candlelight when she breathed. Young, maybe Sigrun's age, but carrying herself like someone who'd earned her place at that dais and resented having to prove it.

  The one seated at his left was older. Thin — thinner than healthy — her hands folded in her lap with the careful stillness of someone conserving every breath. Her hanbok was black silk with gold dragon embroidery, a long horizontal hairpin securing her upswept hair. Her face held a quiet composure that Sigrun recognized, because she'd seen it in the mirror on bad mornings.

  The man rose as they approached. Smooth. Unhurried.

  "Prefect Altai." His voice carried warmth and precision in equal measure. "Jin Syue is honored by your visit. Xing Hong's reputation for principled neutrality precedes you."

  "Your Highness is kind." Dilinur bowed — deep enough for respect, shallow enough to keep her dignity. "Thank you for receiving us. May I present my Associates."

  She turned, and Sigrun watched her work.

  "Marcus Thorne, Stalwart of the Zorian Covenant. He has served with distinction in several solo operations against Fenris incursions on Mars."

  Marcus stepped forward and bowed slightly. Stiff, formal, the way a soldier bows when he'd rather salute. The prince's gaze swept him, measuring the frame under the linen shirt.

  "Jabari Adomako, Griot of the Emerald Directorate. He contributed significantly during Xing Hong's defense against the Fenris invasion in February."

  Jabari's bow was looser but dramatic, almost ninety degrees, one hand touching his chest. "An honor!"

  "Zhi-Xin Wu, our technical specialist and systems analyst."

  But he'd done SO MUCH MORE. Sigrun thought to herself. Was this Dilinur's plan? To underplay what Xin was actually capable of?

  Xin pushed up his glasses and nodded. "Your Highness." H?kon perched on his shoulder, scales shifting through cautious amber, sapphire eyes wide at the massive hall. A few courtiers nearby leaned in, whispering to each other.

  "And Sigrun. Psi Lynx, certified by the Terra Alliance."

  Dilinur said it clean. No surname, no lineage. Just her first name and the job title.

  The prince's gaze settled on Sigrun and stayed.

  "Sigrun." A pause, tasting the word. "A common Nordling name. I wonder which house you hail from."

  Sigrun met his eyes. "Not one worth mentioning."

  And it'd be the truth. To admit she was from House Fjeld, that she was the Third Princess, would be suicide if the rumors about the Imperium's allegiance with the Fenris Horde were at all true.

  "High Queen Maren Fjeld and our great Imperium share a long understanding. The Nordic Commonwealth's current governance on Europa notwithstanding." His smile was warm on the surface, sharp underneath. "A specific Sigrun Fjeld ran away years prior, a wanted woman since year '84. I wonder if you have ever heard of her?"

  "Yeah. She's kind of famous," Sigrun said, her posture rigid.

  He held her gaze a moment longer, then gestured to the women beside him.

  "My betrothed. Lady Min-jung Ri, of House Ri."

  The seated woman inclined her head. Up close, Sigrun could see the faint shadows under her eyes, the slight hollowing at her temples. Sick, and not recently. "You may call me Ming," she said. Her English was unhurried, each word placed like a stone in a wall. No contractions. "Everyone does, eventually."

  "And Kaori Ouyang, who has served my household faithfully for nine years."

  The standing woman's chin lifted a fraction. She looked at the delegation the way someone might look at furniture being delivered to the wrong address. Her eyes lingered on Sigrun's borrowed hanfu — the cobalt silk stretched tight across her breasts, Dilinur's sash cinched around a waist it wasn't cut for — and the corner of her crimson lips twitched.

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  She said nothing. That said plenty.

  "Please." Joon-Seok gestured toward chairs arranged in a semicircle facing the dais, low tables set with tea and candied fruit. "Let us speak of matters that bring friends together."

  The chairs were comfortable. They were also positioned a full step below the dais. Sigrun sat and reached for her tea.

  The tea was pale gold and faintly smoky, served in black porcelain cups thin enough to see light through. The low tables held more than candied fruit — lacquered trays of lotus-paste mooncakes dusted with crushed peanut, skewers of seared lamb glazed in something that smelled like Sichuan peppercorn and tamarind, and small ceramic bowls of what looked like rice pudding topped with saffron threads and crushed cardamom. The fusion was everywhere, even in the food. Tamil sweetness cut with numbing heat.

  Sigrun took a mooncake. It was good. Better than good — the paste dissolved on her tongue with a richness that made the protein bars back at Camp Yusuf feel like an insult.

  On the table beside Xin, H?kon had already found the candied jujubes. His tiny claws picked one up, turned it, and shoved the entire thing into his mouth.

  "Mmmnnh." His scales flushed a pleased pink. "Sweet-sweet, Pappa. More?"

  "One more," Xin said. "Just one."

  H?kon took three.

  "Xing Hong proposes joint access to the Hellas Basin zephyrium survey data," Dilinur said. "In exchange, we offer intelligence on Fenris movements across the Mariner Valley network. Our Constables are capable of scouting most Inner Sol forces cannot manage."

  Kaori's jaw tightened. Then, with rapid words that Sigrun could not comprehend, she turned toward Joon-Seok. "Pǔ dàrén, zhè huǒxīng chòu biǎo zǐ shì xiǎng kuāng wǒmen ba—"

  Dilinur cut her short, tone even but voice loud enough to carry. "In English, if you please, Lady Kaori?"

  Sigrun looked to where Xin sat. Xin lifted his green Nucleus Watch, the device held up and angled just enough that Sigrun could see the translation in the holographic bubble above its dial:

  [Kaori Ouyang: Lord Pak, the Martian bitch's trying to trick us.]

  Sigrun's lips curved up as Xin lowered his watch. Both of them returned their gaze to the exchange.

  "Prefect Altai. You mentioned Camp Yusuf," Joon-Seok said. "As a waypoint?"

  "Neutral commerce station. Beneficial to all parties."

  "The survey data." He picked a candied plum, turned it between his fingers. "How recent?"

  "Last month. Three new deposits identified."

  He'd read their credentials before they arrived. That much was obvious.

  "Xing Hong's neutrality has always been its greatest asset, Prefect. A city where all factions trade on equal footing." Joon-Seok examined the plum. "Though I confess, recent developments have raised questions in certain circles."

  Dilinur's expression didn't shift. "Questions?"

  "A formal pact with the Terra Alliance is, of course, Xing Hong's prerogative." The plum disappeared. His tone stayed warm. "Though one might observe that a city which has thrived on neutrality could find new allegiances... burdensome. The Alliance's Corporate Chamber does not invest without expecting returns."

  Dilinur let the silence hold for a beat before answering.

  "Xing Hong's agreements are structured to preserve our independence, Your Highness. The Alliance understands that our value lies precisely in our neutrality."

  "Of course." Joon-Seok smiled. "I merely observe, as a friend."

  "On the matter of intelligence sharing." Dilinur's tone didn't change. "Our operations on Mars have uncovered references to individuals connected to Fenris operations on Venus. A researcher named Meiya Ji. And a young woman identified as Ume."

  Sigrun watched the room.

  Joon-Seok's expression didn't change. A wall slid up behind his eyes, polished and seamless, and if Sigrun hadn't been watching she'd have missed the exact moment it happened.

  "I am unfamiliar with those names," he said. "Venus hosts many transients. Perhaps the Golden Bazaar's administrative records would serve you better."

  A polite wall. Smooth stone with no handholds.

  Sigrun's attention snapped to Kaori.

  The woman hadn't moved. Same posture. Same sculpted contempt. But her right hand — the one holding a folded Psi Fan — had tightened. Knuckles pressing against silk. The fan's edge dimpled under the pressure.

  It lasted less than a second. Then the hand relaxed, the fan settled, and Kaori's face returned to its default setting.

  But Sigrun had seen it. She couldn't decode the full picture. But her body understood threat signals the way it understood breathing.

  Something's here. Something they're hiding.

  She kept her face neutral and drank her tea.

  H?kon, who'd been quietly perched on the table where Xin sat, scales holding confused beige, chose this moment to make his introduction. "Many-many people, yummy fruit, big shiny, but no happy?"

  Ming noticed him first.

  "A Diabolisk." She said it to the room, but her eyes were on H?kon. "I have read of them in the Jotunheim Institute's published records. I did not expect to see one alive outside Europa."

  She rose from her chair. The movement was careful, measured against whatever her body was doing today. She crossed to Xin and stopped at a respectful distance, looking at H?kon directly.

  "May I?"

  Xin glanced at Sigrun. She gave a small nod.

  "He's friendly," Xin said to Ming. "Usually."

  Ming extended her hand, palm up, like an offer.

  H?kon studied her. His blue eyes didn't blink. Then he leaned forward and pressed his snout against her fingers.

  His scales shifted. The confused beige bled away, replaced by a calm, steady blue that spread from his nose to the tip of his tail. The color of a clear winter sky. The color he wore when Xin held him at night, or when Sigrun rested her hand on his head.

  Ming's composure cracked. A smile, small but real, touched her lips.

  "He is warm," she said softly.

  "Pin Lady nice," H?kon announced, his small voice carrying further than intended. "Hand warm-warm."

  Ming blinked. "Pin Lady?"

  "He names people by what he notices first," Xin explained. "Your hairpin."

  "I have been called worse." She touched H?kon's scales once more, then withdrew her hand and gave Xin a small bow. "You have a remarkable companion, Mr. Wu."

  She returned to her seat. The smile was gone, sealed back behind formal composure. But it had been there.

  Then Kaori approached.

  She moved the way someone moves through their own house — ownership in every step. Her hand reached for H?kon without asking, fingers extending toward his head the way you'd reach for a decorative object on a shelf.

  H?kon's scales shifted instantly. Blue turned the color of wet mud. Anxious brown. His body tensed, claws tightening on Xin's shoulder, and he pressed himself flat against the curve of Xin's neck. "Jewel Lady cold-cold."

  Kaori's hand hung in empty air. Her eyes narrowed. "Skittish pet," she said.

  "He's not a pet." Xin's voice stayed calm. "Also, he decides who touches him."

  Kaori looked at Xin the way she might look at a stain on upholstery. Then she withdrew her hand, turned, and walked back to the dais without another word.

  Joon-Seok had watched the entire exchange. His eyes moved between H?kon, Xin, and Sigrun.

  Then he turned back to Dilinur, and the diplomatic conversation resumed as if nothing had happened.

  Sigrun sipped her tea, listening to Xin and H?kon's exchange instead.

  "Pappa. Cape Man speak many words but HAW-koon confused." The little Diabolisk pointed a tiny claw at Joon-Seok.

  "Well, you know, adult subjects are complicated." Xin replied.

  Beasts know. Children know. Radi-Mons definitely know.

  "A reception," Joon-Seok announced. "Music, refreshments, dancing. I insist you stay."

  Dilinur inclined her head. "Of course. Your hospitality is appreciated."