Chapter 152: Chapter 152: Unauthorized Consultation
"Liam..." Mezos pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are not going to be part of the mission."
Liam’s pout deepened into something that would have been childish if it had not belonged to a man capable of designing illegal ether infrastructure beneath a hostile capital.
Mezos raised one hand before Liam could begin saying something undoubtedly intelligent, persuasive, and deeply inconvenient.
"You and Arik will be at the engagement reception," he said. "You will be visible. You will be watched. You will be the center of the room, because that is the entire point of the reception. We," he gestured to himself with the tired elegance of a man who had argued with royalty before breakfast and survived, "and the Shadows will handle Canmore Manor."
Liam stared at him.
Then his red eyes narrowed.
"You said we."
"Yes."
"You are going."
"I am coordinating."
"That means going."
"I’m the Chief of Security."
"Mezos."
Mezos looked at him calmly.
Liam looked back.
Below them, the Vanguard roared with such force that the entire platform seemed to breathe around them. Mara, wisely, had increased the diagnostic hum again and was pretending with remarkable dedication that she was not listening.
Liam pointed a finger at Mezos. "You cannot tell me I am too emotionally involved and then personally go to Canmore Manor while wearing that calm expression. That is hypocritical."
"I am not emotionally involved."
"You have been serving Arik long enough to develop stress-related loyalty damage."
"That is not an official diagnosis."
"It should be."
Mara called up from below, "I would sign the paper."
"Mara," Mezos said.
"I am emotionally removed," she replied. "But medically curious."
Liam gave Mezos a look that said the prosecution rested.
Mezos sighed. "My involvement does not create the same vulnerabilities yours would."
Liam looked like he lost and felt the same. "Fine."
"Swear with ether." Mezos said, just a beat later.
"No," Liam said, physically recoiling. "I can’t use ether unless I want to die in one of the most painful ways possible."
"What?!" Mezos yelled.
"I can hear you just fine from here," Liam said, rubbing his ear. "I can’t use ether."
"Does...?"
Mezos stopped himself, but it was already too late.
Liam’s expression sharpened at once. "Does Arik know? That is the question you wanted to ask?"
Mezos did not answer.
The silence was answer enough.
Liam sighed and leaned back against the service rail with the weary dignity of a man who had accidentally triggered another imperial crisis before lunch. "No."
Mezos stared at him.
Mara’s diagnostic station went very quiet.
Liam looked down. "Mara."
"I am not listening," Mara called up.
"You stopped the diagnostic hum."
"I am not listening with concern."
"That is worse."
Mezos took one step closer, and for the first time since arriving in Lab V, the calm polish of him cracked. Not dramatically. Mezos did not seem capable of drama unless it had been scheduled three days in advance and approved by three departments. But his face changed enough that Liam knew he had said something he should perhaps have explained earlier.
"What do you mean you cannot use ether?" Mezos asked.
"I mean exactly that."
"You work in Lab V."
"Yes."
"You built the Vanguard."
"I designed it. I monitor it. I maintain it. I do not put ether through my body."
Mezos’s eyes moved over him with sudden, frightening precision, as if every previous file had rearranged itself in his head and produced a conclusion he disliked. "You have an ether signature."
"Everyone has an ether signature."
"Not like yours."
Liam’s mouth flattened.
He hated when the conversation reached this part, because people either became too interested, too pitying, or too afraid. Mezos, unfortunately, was the worst possible fourth option: professionally alarmed.
"My channels are damaged," Liam said. "Or incompatible. Or improperly formed. The doctors disagreed, because apparently medical education becomes decorative when a patient does not fit into a clean category."
Mezos said nothing.
Liam continued, mostly because stopping now would make the silence worse. "If I pull ether directly, it does not circulate. It catches. Burns. Tears. Choose your preferred word. The result is the same. Pain, internal damage, possible organ failure if I am stupid enough to continue."
Mara appeared at the lower stairs, wiping her hands on a cloth she did not need, her face far too carefully blank. "He is underselling it."
"Mara."
"You are."
"I am being efficient."
"You nearly died when you were seventeen because some Canmore tutor thought discipline could fix a defective channel response."
Mezos’s expression went still in a way Liam did not like at all.
The Vanguard roared beneath them.
For once, Liam wished it were louder.
"That was years ago," he said.
"That does not make it charming history," Mara replied.
Mezos looked from Mara back to Liam. "Arik does not know."
"The Crown Prince knows."
The voice came from the far side of the platform, rough and calm and familiar enough that Liam’s irritation changed targets before his face did.
Alexander crossed the upper platform with a stack of documents tucked under one arm, his security jacket buttoned properly despite the heat of Lab V. The scar on his right cheek caught the blue-white flash of the Vanguard as he passed beneath one of the lights, a pale line that dragged from cheekbone to jaw and disappeared beneath his collar, continuing down his neck where most people were polite enough not to stare.
Liam stared anyway.
Not at the scar.
At the betrayal.
"You told him?" Liam asked, red eyes narrowing at once.
Alexander stopped beside Mara’s station and handed her the documents with the air of a man delivering inventory forms rather than detonating a private medical conversation. "Yes."
Mara took them, looked at the top page, and frowned. "These are fake maintenance transfer approvals."
"They are real enough to explain why seven unfamiliar people walked through a restricted university corridor this morning," Alexander said. "You are welcome."
Mara glanced toward Mezos.
Mezos’s expression had returned to something composed, but his eyes were sharper now.
Liam pointed at Alexander. "Do not distract with paperwork. You told Arik?"
Alexander turned back to him. "Yes."
"When?"
"Right after you brought him and the others here for the first time."
Alexander continued, "Also, you do not have damaged channels."
The sentence struck the platform hard enough that even the Vanguard’s roar seemed to dip beneath it.
Liam went still.
Mezos turned his head slowly toward Alexander.
Mara looked up.
"What?" Liam said.
Alexander’s expression did not change. He had the kind of face that had probably stared down artillery, superior officers, and university administrators with equal levels of patience.
"The doctor who told you that was a quack."
Liam stared at him. "I know he was a quack, but what other answer is there?"
Mezos reached for his comm. "Marin arrives today." He pointed at Liam. "We return to the diplomatic palace to talk with him."
"No."
