Page 325 of Reaper Said Mine

“You thought it judgmentally.”

“You’re standing on furniture.”

“The furniture consented.”

“It cannot consent. That’s why it’s furniture.”

He looks down at the chair. “Ignore her. She doesn’t understand us.”

The Reaper engineer, a young female named Dakka with short ivory spurs along her jaw, glances over. “The relay would be fixed faster if he stopped flirting with the ceiling.”

Bellamy gasps. “I am building infrastructure.”

“You are blocking the maintenance hatch with your ego.”

Rana leans toward me. “I like her.”

“So do I.”

Bellamy climbs down with wounded dignity and crosses the room. He has finally started sleeping again, which has improved his complexion and made his sarcasm more targeted. He hands me a slate.

“Morning brief. Three tribunal updates, two new corruption leads from Alliance procurement, one Combine whistleblower who may be real or may be bait, and one request from Dawson.”

My hand stills.

Bellamy’s expression shifts.

“He wants a licensing conversation,” he says.

I take the slate slowly. “Of course he does.”

“His message was very polished.”

“That means he’s suffering.”

“Deeply, I hope.”

The old ache is quieter now, but it is not gone. Dawson and IHC tried to bury the most important work of my life. They failed, and their failure hurt them. They lost access, credibility, several senior advertisers, and a humiliating number of staff who quit after the Monster Theater release exposed internal suppression memos. Dawson remains employed, because men like him often survive disasters by looking serious enough afterward, but the galaxy no longer treats him as an unquestioned gatekeeper.

I should feel vindicated.

I do, sometimes.

Other times, I remember the mentor he was before fear and power made him smaller than his own lessons.

“Tell him Open Signal doesn’t license source-protected material to organizations that attempted suppression,” I say. “He can cite our public archive like everyone else.”

Bellamy smiles. “Professional?”

“Very.”

“Can I add a footnote that says eat glass?”

“No.”

“Can Rana?”

Rana brightens. “I can be available.”