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“Yes. As I’ve warned from the beginning.”

“Fuck.”

“There’s not much else I can do at this point.”

“Hold me and tell me everything is going to be all right.”

Fairhrim’s upward glance, begun in scepticism, grew serious, then shifted back to scepticism.

“You almost sounded sincere,” said Fairhrim. “Well done.”

Osric, who had, obviously, not been sincere, inclined his head towards her like a pleased thespian. “Thank you.”

Fairhrim plucked the diffractor’s tentacles off Osric and rolled the contraption away. She instructed him to dress and exited the room, and thus deprived herself of further viewings of his superb masculinity, which was her loss.

When Osric had dressed, Fairhrim returned and boxed up her various maps and notes and things scattered about the clinic. (“I’ll take these home with me—can’t risk someone else seeing,” she said, as though the contents were shameful and perverse.)

This exercise completed, she dusted her hands with the air of one moving on to the next item on her list, turned expectantly to Osric, and said, “So.”

Osric, having graduated from microbe to bullet point, asked, “What?”

“My deofol told me that you had findings to share with me.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes—that. Did you discover something about the intruders at Swanstone?”

“I did.”

Fairhrim continued to look at Osric expectantly and, indeed, with far more interest than when he was a microbe. Now he had her attention. Now he wouldn’t be ignored.

He would be moderate about it. He wouldn’t power trip.

He power tripped immediately.

“I don’t know,” said Osric. “I’m not certain it’s worth sharing.”

This had been a coy invitation for a bit of cajoling from Fairhrim.

She did not cajole. She unleashed an imperious command: “Tell me.”

“It’s very vague. I’d rather tell you when I’ve got something tangible.”

Fairhrim’s focus on Osric was intense. Her eyes bored into his. For once, it wasn’t Osric who needed something from her, who needed to demand or coerce or beg. It gave him a terrible sort of pleasure to have something that she wanted.

Osric turned away, as if to move towards the door.

Fairhrim took a step sideways to remain in his line of sight. “Tell me.”

Yes. He liked it.

“I may have a contact,” said Osric.

“For who ordered the intrusion?”

“Tss,”scoffed Osric. “That’d be too easy. For someone who might know something about who ordered it.”

“Who is this contact?”