CONSUL OKMER sweeps his gaze across the room, taking in the decor with appreciation. The DarkNet headquarters is designed, furnished, and arranged with impeccable taste. The high, intricately patterned vaulted ceilings, the massive double doors, and the vibrant yet subdued color scheme—dominated by gold, blue, and copper—evoke a 19th-century Habsburg palace.

  “I won’t offer you tea,” says General Ackerson. “I know you hate the stuff. Maybe a fruit juice? Our gardens produce exceptional mangoes and bananas.”

  “I’ll let myself be tempted—fruit juice it is. But tell me, how did you know I don’t like tea?”

  The question is just a playful jab at Ackerson, who heads the DNSF and, by extension, the DarkNet’s intelligence services. Ackerson smiles.

  “I also know you’re exactly the man I need to talk to. So let’s get straight to it: why do you keep carrying out hostile actions against us?”

  Okmer returns the smile.

  “You sound like a politician, Ackerson. I didn’t peg you for that kind of flaw. Aiming for the next governorship? A seat in Parliament?”

  “I nearly lost two of my best operatives, Okmer. I hate that, if you don’t mind me saying so. Especially when thermospheric weapons are aimed at me in blatant violation of the Law of Separation.”

  “This juice looks fantastic! Let me enjoy it first,” the consul replies as a waiter presents him with a carafe and glass on a silver tray.

  Ackerson waits politely as Okmer stirs his drink with a spoon and takes two long sips. The consul discreetly stifles a burp.

  “We’re the ones who should be complaining, my dear friend. One of our citizens—who arrived here as a simple tourist, in good faith—was attacked and hunted down by your police like a criminal. No—worse, like an animal.”

  “A tourist?” Ackerson scoffs. “As far as I know, we have no ‘tourism’ agreement. Any incursion into our territory is a provocation.”

  “Except that your so-called ‘territory’ doesn’t exist, Ackerson. The Law of Separation is not a territorial treaty—”

  “Spare me the propaganda, Okmer. You and I were never meant to sleep together, and you damn well know it—pardon the metaphor.”

  Okmer bursts into laughter.

  “Now that’s more like it, General Ackerson! I do enjoy your bluntness.”

  “That’s twice in five minutes you’ve commented on my character. Frankly, that’s concerning. Can we move on to more serious matters?”

  “What do you want to know? See? I can be direct too.”

  “What’s the asset your people are trying so hard to protect?”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “That’s classified information. I can’t disclose it. But don’t worry—we won’t be troubling you much longer.”

  “A dismissive, condescending answer. Our army is not a toy for you to play with whenever it suits you.”

  Okmer leans in slightly.

  “Let’s not resort to threats, Ackerson. If we took the risk of upsetting you, it’s because this is extremely important to us.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “We’re even willing to apologize. This isn’t a provocation or an act of hostility. You and I both know neither of us benefits from open conflict.”

  Ackerson mirrors the consul’s posture, leaning forward.

  “Don’t take me for a fool, Okmer. With this level of security, and given the risks you’re taking, your ‘asset’ can only be a threat.”

  He pauses, frowning, then continues.

  “What is it? An infiltration of our high command? Our scientific corps? The Dark AI project?”

  “My friend, my friend—let’s not turn this into some bad spy novel. Why get worked up? We’re simply tracking down a lost sheep—one that threatens us, not you. See? I’ve laid all my cards on the table. Once the sheep is back in its pen, everything will be back in order.”

  This time, it’s Ackerson who bursts out laughing.

  “A top-tier WorldNet cyborg defects and joins the renegades! And you expect me to—”

  “We are not ‘cyborgs,’ we are humans,” Okmer interrupts, his tone sharp. “Don’t get that twisted. And it’s not funny.”

  “You’re barely human. Why else would you plan to merge your entire population into a single sentient entity? The Great Collective Consciousness. Lord have mercy.”

  “Ackerson, that’s crude. I expected better from you. When you don’t understand concepts that are beyond you, it’s best to keep your mouth shut.”

  “Now you’re the one losing your composure, my friend. But let’s get back to business, since you brought up sheep. Here’s my message to you: we took care to avoid a military escalation this time. We won’t next time.”

  “And here’s my message in return: we will not allow you to lay a single finger on that asset. In any way, shape, or form. Even if it means destroying you.”

  “Consul Okmer!”

  The two men turn as a woman’s voice interrupts them. Her holographic image shimmers into view before them—an elderly woman with an enigmatic smile.

  “I hear you’re honoring us with a visit,” she says. “I thought I’d join the party. I hope I haven’t dropped in like a stone in your soup?”

  Ackerson and Okmer rise from their seats and bow in acknowledgment.

  Okmer adopts a mocking expression.

  “Madam President, I was just explaining to General Ackerson that our sole intention is to cooperate with the DarkNet in a spirit of peace—free of ulterior motives. And in the best interests of both our nations.”

  “Very good, very good! We, too, believe in open and mutually beneficial cooperation. Like in any relationship, friction is inevitable, but it’s occasional and should be treated as such. After all, principles and ideologies may divide us, but in the end, we all belong to the same great human family! Wouldn’t you agree, General Ackerson?”

  “Absolutely, Madam President.”

  “That settles it. This will be my final message, Mr. Consul. Please relay it to your Directoire—with my compliments.”

  “It will be done, Madam President.”

  Once Okmer is gone, President Louise Makobo turns to Ackerson.

  “Do you believe a word of that?”

  “Not for a second. This ‘lost sheep’ story is laughable. There’s something else going on.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  “Unfortunately, all I have right now are vague instincts. The only thing I’m sure of is that they’re desperate to keep us from getting our hands on it.”

  “All the more reason to track down this so-called asset, wouldn’t you say? But how do we do that without starting a war?”

  “I have a few ideas. I just need you to trust me. I’ll take the time to dig into some inconsistencies. Besides, it’s not impossible that Okmer is bluffing...”

  “Trust granted. What’s your next move?”

  “Taking a closer look at this so-called Protector.”

  “Perfect. One last thing…”

  “Yes?”

  “You pushed Okmer to the edge—and you did well. But it left me with a strange feeling.”

  “What kind of feeling?”

  “It’s as if they don’t even know exactly what they’re looking for.”