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Story: Cyborg's Heart

"No," I said, stepping closer. "I'm talking about why it never activated. About who made sure it couldn't."

A soft gasp escaped her as the implications hit. "You're saying..."

"The same people who orchestrated Geneva are here now," I confirmed. "And they're using the same playbook. Only this time, the stakes are much higher."

I reached into my secure memory core and extracted a data crystal. "This contains everything I've discovered so far. Including..." I hesitated, knowing this next part would hit her hard. "Including the real reason your friend Mitch died."

She took the crystal with trembling fingers. "How long have you known?"

"Not long enough to prevent what's coming," I admitted. "But maybe long enough to stop it, if you're willing to help."

Her blue eyes met mine, searching for something. Whatever she saw there must have convinced her, because she straightened her spine and nodded.

"I'm in," she said firmly. "Whatever it takes."

I was about to respond when my threat detection systems suddenly spiked. Multiple signatures converging on our position. I grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows just as a beam of energy scorched the ground where she'd been standing.

"We need to move," I whispered. "Now."

But as we turned to flee, my sensors picked up something that made my processors stutter: a quantum signature I hadn't detected in years. One that should have been impossible.

It was Mitch's personal encryption key.

The dead, it seemed, had secrets of their own.

CHAPTER FIVE

Clover

I burst into the private meeting room, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird. Goernx was already there, his cybernetic eye whirring as it focused on my flushed face.

"They've pulled out," I gasped, barely able to catch my breath. "The Altairian delegation. They're withdrawing their support."

Goernx's expression remained impassive, but I caught the slight tensing of his shoulders. "When?"

"Just now. I got the comm as I was heading to the morning session." I ran a hand through my hair, not caring that I was messing up my usually immaculate coiffure. "This is a disaster, Goernx. Without Altair's backing, the entire treaty could fall apart."

He nodded, his processors no doubt already running through countless scenarios. "We need to move quickly. The news will spread fast."

I sank into one of the plush chairs, my mind racing. The Altairians had been our strongest allies in pushing for moreintegrated human-cyborg communities. Their withdrawal would embolden the hardliners on both sides.

"Okay," I said, forcing myself to think strategically. "We need to get Ambassador Zix back to the table. He's the key to the Altairian position."

Goernx moved to the holographic display in the center of the room, pulling up Zix's file. "What changed? His biometrics showed strong support for the treaty during yesterday's session."

I shook my head, frustration building. "I don't know. The message was vague. Something aboutirreconcilable differencesandsecurity concerns."

"Security concerns," Goernx repeated, his tone thoughtful. "That's new."

A chill ran down my spine as I remembered our earlier suspicions of sabotage. "You don't think..."

"It's a possibility we can't ignore," he said grimly. "But first, we need to focus on damage control."

I nodded, pulling out my datapad and furiously typing notes. "Okay, let's break this down. What do we know about Zix's priorities?"

For the next hour, Goernx and I brainstormed strategies, our words overlapping as we built on each other's ideas. It was moments like these when I was grateful for his cyborg enhancements and his ability to process information at lightning speed complimented my more intuitive approach perfectly.

"We need to appeal to his sense of legacy," I said, pacing the room. "Zix has always been concerned about how history will view him."