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"That would be helpful," she said carefully. "I have some questions about the neural interface specifications that could use clarification."

As she gathered her materials, I noticed one of the suspicious delegates watching us intently. My combat subroutines activated automatically, running background threat assessments, but I kept my posture relaxed and non-threatening.

"Shall we?" I gestured toward the door, positioning myself slightly ahead of her with a move that would appear gentlemanly to observers but would also put me between her and any potential threats.

As we walked out together, my processors worked overtime, analyzing possibilities and calculating risks. I had no proof yet of the danger I suspected. But my systems were rarely wrong, and something about Clover Belk made me think she might be the key to preventing another Geneva.

The question was: could I trust her enough to share what I knew? And more importantly, could she trust me enough to believe it?

The answer to both questions would have to wait until dinner. For now, I focused on getting us safely out of the building, all too aware of the eyes watching our departure and the weight of secrets I carried.

CHAPTER THREE

Clover

I hurried down the east corridor of the diplomatic headquarters, my mind racing as fast as my heels clicked against the polished floor. Goernx's message burned in my thoughts:Secure location. Before he arrives.What could be so urgent that the usually reserved cyborg diplomat would risk a private meeting?

The biolock on Door 7 chimed its acceptance of my palm print, and I stepped into the secure meeting room. Goernx stood by the panoramic windows, his tall frame silhouetted against Nexus Prime's skyline. He turned as I entered, his cybernetic enhancements catching the morning light.

"Thank you for coming," he said, his voice measured as always. But something in his stance seemed to be tenser than usual.

"Your message wasn't exactly something I could ignore," I replied, keeping my tone light despite my racing heart. "Especially with Syntax-7's arrival."

He moved closer, and I noticed his optical sensors scanning the room in a precise pattern. Looking for surveillance devices?"There are. inconsistencies in today's proceedings that concern me."

I pulled out my notebook, a habit that usually helped me focus. "Care to be more specific?"

"Not yet." He paused, those piercing blue eyes with one organic, one enhanced studying my face. "I need to verify certain information first."

Frustration bubbled up inside me. "Goernx, if there's something that could impact these negotiations?—"

"Everything impacts these negotiations, Delegate Belk." He cut me off smoothly. "The question is: what impacts them fatally?"

The wordfatallysent a chill down my spine, memories of Geneva threatening to surface. I pushed them back. "You're not exactly inspiring confidence here."

"Trust is a complex calculation," he said, his lips curving in what might have been a smile. "Even more so between humans and cyborgs."

Goernx straightened. "Watch the other delegates carefully today, particularly Chen, Martinez, and Koda. Their behavioral patterns are... concerning."

"What exactly am I watching for?"

"You'll know it when you see it." He moved toward the door, then paused. "And Clover? Be careful who you trust."

With that cryptic warning, he left me standing alone in the secure room, more confused than ever. I glanced down at my notebook, where I'd unconsciously been drawing circles while we talked. The same pattern I'd doodled during the Geneva talks.

The main conference room was already filling when I arrived. I took my usual seat, watching as delegates filtered in. Dr. Chen caught my eye and nodded, but something about her smile seemed off. Was that what Goernx meant?

Syntax-7's entrance changed the room's entire atmosphere. The chrome-plated cyborg diplomat commanded attention without effort, his reputation preceding him like a physical force. I watched Goernx take his position near his fellow cyborg, his expression unreadable.

The morning session proved grueling. Every proposal met with counter-proposals, every concession with new demands. I divided my attention between the actual negotiations and observing the delegates Goernx had named.

"The neural integration protocols must be standardized," Syntax-7 was saying, his metallic voice filling the room. "We cannot accept regional variations."

I leaned forward. "Standardization has merit, but we need flexibility for cultural differences. Perhaps we could?—"

"Perhaps," Dr. Chen interrupted, "we should focus on the security protocols first." She exchanged a quick glance with Martinez. That set off warning bells in my mind.

"The protocols are interconnected," I countered, observing their reactions. "We can't separate them without?—"