Page 81 of Bride of the Enemy Alien

Epis.

There it is. The resource that the old wars wore as a crown and a knife. The thing Tajss should never have had again. The thing that turns survival into value for people who would strip a world to bone and call the ledgers clean.

Kavor’s hand covers Sera’s. His eyes are not on me. They are on the door, the walls, the imagined sky beyond them.

Rosalind’s voice stays level. “Enough to bring Krix?”

“Krix, yes. Others if they intercept or buy the packet.”

“Zzlo,” Visidion says.

“Yes. And arena houses,” I say. “Old-war collectors. Brokers who remember epis and want to control it before the next war is named.”

Kessa’s mouth tightens. She says nothing. That worries me more than speech.

Virn leans over the table. “How long?”

“I do not know.”

Adran’s gaze cuts to my ribs. “Then you are the immediate risk.”

Syin’s blade does not move, but his attention does. Toward Kessa, then back to me.

“Yes,” I say.

Kessa turns her head slowly. I do not look away.

“The blood relay in me can still answer a stronger receiver. It may draw another signal if one comes close. It may also let us detect one before it locks on the City.”

“You are suggesting we keep you near enough to use,” Adran says.

“I am stating the cost of every option.”

“Convenient.”

“No,” I say. “Accurate.”

Kessa’s eyes flash at the echo. Good. Anger means she is still fully herself despite the fear.

Merra steps close enough to study the salt cloth over my ribs.

“Can it be cut out?”

“Not here,” I say.

“I did not ask you because I mistook you for sensible,” Merra says.

“It sits near vessels and nerves. If you cut blind, it may send what is left inside me as one final pulse.”

Merra’s mouth goes flat. “Of course it might. Why would anyone install a horrible thing without making sure it had an even worse failsafe?”

Rosalind looks at Kessa. “Thoughts?”

Kessa exhales once through her nose.

“No central chamber. No source-adjacent rooms. No public restraint. No metal tools near either implant unless Merra says. No one repeats signal rhythms for tests because we are not trying to impress death with our stupidity.”

Adran starts, “And him?”