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The cabinet meeting was nearing adjournment when Pane Segdi’s pad chirruped. She looked down, and her eyes widened.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known this was coming. They all had. Still, not even four months had passed since First Contact, and at that point, they’d been told it would be a year.

This coming before the election…it would complicate things. Still, she knew why the military had passed this along. It was exactly as urgent as it appeared.

“Mr. Floor Leader, I apologize for interrupting,” Segdi said, “but…sir, Gama Fleet reports that Earth has broken the light barrier.”

The brief silence that greeted his response was broken by the Deputy Floor Leader. “You’re sure, Payne?”

“Yes, Forna. They traveled just faster than the speed of light – confirmed at 1.003y.”

“So we were monitoring it.”

“Yes.”

“Well, good,” Forna said. “They didn’t reach it on their own.”

“We were only monitoring it,” Segdi said. “The ship’s design, construction, and crew was all human.”

“That’s not what you’re going to say, Pane.”

“Why should she not tell the truth!? Puny humans have broken the light barrier!”

Qorni avoided wincing; she generally ignored the Minister for Non-Titan Affairs, so she could be forgiven for briefly forgetting about Sraggh. She forced a smile on her face, and turned to the Ler.

“There is already a committee studying the issue, LerSraggh. This could confuse the issue.”

“There is no confusion! Puny humans have created a practical warp drive! This makes them potentially Class One! Under the law….”

“Under the law, the Interior Minister may file a dispensation petition to force reconsideration of their status, yes,” Qorni said. “But I’m not going to.”

“Not just the Interior Minister! You forget, two ministers are allowed to, and I am one of them! The non-Titans wish the humans to be given consideration!”

“LerSraggh,” Rodrec Zeramblin said, “there is a process in place. Besides, a dispensation petition simply begins the process for the citizenship department. It will take five years to complete.”

“Better to file it now, then! If the committee acts, then it will not matter!”

“You have said yourself, LerSraggh, you question whether the humans can lead equal lives in the Empire,” Dio Eusy said.

“Puny humans are pathetic and weak! They can be easily damaged! But we still wish the process to begin! Even if they cannot live in the Empire, we should not lie about their success!”

“Your point is interesting, LerSraggh, but the Interior Ministry will file a dissenting petition, meaning the decision will have to be voted on by the legislature. Why not just let the committee decide?”

“In case they do not!” LerSraggh said. “I will file the petition! File yours! Let the Citizenship Department make their decision!”

Zeramblin saw Qorni about to continue, but he shook his head. “LerSraggh, this is your right, as it is the Interior Minister’s right to disagree. At worst, the Imperial Citizenship Department conducting its own study will be useful as more information for the Tarsuss Committee to consider. Now, is there anything else? All right, we’ll meet next week as usual, Forna, can you stay here a moment? Thanks, everyone.”

Zeramblin relaxed at the head of the table, and waited for the room to clear out, leaving just him and his soi-disant most trusted ally alone.

“You should fire him,” Qorni said, when the doors closed.

“And who would I replace him with? The non-Titans want a review of human citizenship, anyone I appoint will file the same petition.”

“Replace him with a Titan. Just for now. It….”

“Forna, you want my job someday. Do you really think the Dunnermacs, the Ler, and the Avartle would feel like they were represented by an all-Titan cabinet? There’s a reason Shaer Naick created the office, and it wasn’t out of the goodness of her heart. It was to keep them connected to the Empire. To keep them a part of the government, no matter who the ruling coalition was. It’s the same reason that office has the right to petition a department in your ministry.”

“We can’t let humans become citizens, Rodrec,” Forna Qorni said.

Zeramblin rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, you’ve been down this road with me more than once, Forna. Humans become citizens, they’ll vote against us, and that will hurt us, blah blah blah. There’s another option, you know.”

“And what’s that?”

“We ease up on the rhetoric. We stop worrying about whether humans are gonna be citizens – because they are, someday. Maybe not with this committee, maybe not with this petition, but gorram, Forna, they broke light speed! That is the hallmark of a Class One species. We’re not gonna be able to hold back the river forever. We drop overt opposition, it makes it easier to win their votes down the line.”

“No,” Qorni said. “That just hands seats to the Titan Party.”

“Why, because they’ll hate humans while they’re hating everyone else? Fine, let ‘em. They’re gonna pick up seats this cycle, and a lot of ‘em. Probably 40, is my guess. This kind of change rattles people. But it’s a firework, Forna, they won’t last long, they’re too spiteful.”

“Look, Rodrec, you’ve been soft on the human issue ever since you talked with Armac. Are you….”

“Forna, I’m gonna say this once,” Rodrec said, leaning forward. “I’ve been letting your ministry run with this, I put you on the Tarsuss Committee, and I have not said a word while you’ve been publicly attacking the idea of emancipation. If you think I’m working against you, and you’re unhappy with my leadership, you go ahead and make your move – but you’d better have something better than ‘the Floor Leader discussed possible changes in strategy,’ or I’ll talk about how you once spitballed giving the Federation autonomous provincial status – and you were throwing it out there, I know you were, you weren’t sold on it, you were thinking out loud. But if me thinking about ways to approach the issue is reason for you to come after me, don’t think I won’t come after you the same way.”

Qorni stewed; she was more than willing to make her move – but she and the Floor Leader both knew that even if she succeeded in stirring up doubts, Zeramblin would still have a majority of the majority behind him. All she’d manage to do is eliminate any chance that she’d one day hold his seat.

“Of course I’m not saying that, Mr. Floor Leader,” Qorni said. “It’s just…I see this as a potential existential issue for the north side of the chamber.”

“I understand, and I see it too. That’s why I’m throwing out alternatives, Forna – we both want to see the conservatives succeed for a long time. One way is to fight human emancipation, the other is to bend to it. Right now, I know there are more votes in the caucus for fighting than for bending, and so we’re gonna fight. But it’s always good to remember that there might be another way – because sometimes, you get forced to take it. If you’re gonna succeed me, and we both know you would tomorrow if you could, then you’d better gorram figure that out.”

“I appreciate the advice, Mr. Floor Leader.”

“Yeah, right. You’d like to stab me in my frakking heart, but you’re smart enough not to say it. All right, go prepare your anti-human petition and figure out how to slow-walk the process in the Citizenship Department. I’ve got a meeting with the Emperor in an hour.”

“Of course, Mr. Floor Leader,” Forna said, taking her leave. She wasn’t sure she trusted Zeramblin on this issue, but she knew he was smart enough not to give her an obvious opening. He knew his caucus; he hadn’t lasted this long by misreading his key supporters. As long as he continued to support her, she’d continue to bide her time, and if that support wavered…well, she was going to have to make a move sooner or later, wasn’t she?

* * *

Filfi Adjaye enjoyed many parts of being First Minister of Africa.

Dealing with Amadou Touré was not one of them.

Adjaye had been very successful at working with his former political enemies, even those his Lutte Populaire had once chased out of Abdijian at gunpoint. But there was something about the privileged grandson of General Daoud Touré that set Adjaye’s teeth on edge.

Still, the younger Touré was the Governor-General of Mandé, and that made him someone Adjaye had to deal with, even if he would prefer not to. So he smiled and nodded as Touré came into the room and sat down across from him. “Good morning, Governor-General,” Adjaye said. “I trust you had a safe flight?”

“I did, First Minister,” Touré said. “Thank you.”

“I am curious why you are in Addis Ababa, though,” Filfi said. “Not that I am not delighted to see you, of course.”

“Of course, First Minister,” Touré said, with a bathetic grin; he had no more love of the First Minister than the First Minister had of him. “I felt it was important that I speak with you about a matter that greatly concerns me.”

“Oh? And it was so grave you could not call my gool?”

“Yes, it was. It involves the Titan Empire, First Minister.”

“Ah, yes. I see,” Adjaye said. “Nothing much has changed yet, I’m afraid.”

“That’s just it!” Touré said, hitting a fist into his palm. “A year and a half has passed, and they have barely moved!”

“They have elections scheduled for two years from now, and they view years differently than we do. We know that they will not act before 2162 at the very, very soonest, and it is far more likely to be 2170 than 2165.”

“Are we to be patient forever?”

“No,” Adjaye said. “Not at all.”

“We cannot work with them like this,” Touré said. “And I cannot stand by while the government of Africa ignores this horror.”

“So you’re running for parliament in 2158, then?” Adjaye said with a slight smirk.

That brought Touré up short. “I didn’t say that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. But you’re thinking about it. And you’re thinking of using this as an issue, aren’t you? Thinking of using this to gain the support of the African Front for a leadership position?”

Touré shook his head. “I’m letting you know, First Minister, that you may be comfortable working with despots, but I am not.”

Adjaye roared with laughter. “You are serious? Good Lord, you truly believe this garbage, don’t you? Amadou, did your father ever talk to you about his puppet state in Cotê d’Ivoire et la Ghana? He must have, you still have Gen. Eboué living in a condo in Dakar, after all.”

“I did not come here to discuss the past,” Touré said.

“Perhaps not, but let us not forget that your father was allowed to remain in power in Mandé because we wanted an end to conflict. There was a trade-off; he remained in power, but we audited your government. You know what was released to the public. And you know what information we have hidden, in order to keep Africa from falling apart again. You know this because you’ve been making the scheduled payments to us from your Canary Islands accounts on time, without fail, every six months as agreed. Blood money, of course – but you’ve spent several hundred million of it yourself, and you seem unbothered by it. I suppose I’m dealing with another despot, and hiding it from the people. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should disclose all those dealings. Tell me, do you think Mandé would survive?”

Touré looked at Adjaye in shock. “You wouldn’t dare. Your government would fall.”

“I would have to resign, but there are days I think it would be worth it. At any rate, I’m in no hurry to share that information. As I said, there has been a great deal of conflict. And I welcome you to the 2158 campaign, Governor-General – indeed, I hope you run. Just be aware, if you intend to share secrets, I will be happy to share those I hold as well.”

Touré gave a tight smile. “My father always said that you were not to be underestimated. Gen. Eboué says the same – though he’s much more colorful about it.”

Adjaye laughed. “Understand, Amadou, I do not underestimate you, either. We will not wait forever. But we are giving them time. Just as we are giving Mandé time to recover – and their current Governor-General, for all that he frustrates me, has done a good job of rewarding our trust and patience.”

“I will not share the information. Not yet. But it is something that I am truly concerned about, and not just because of politics.”

Adjaye nodded, and his smile faded. “On that I agree with you, Amadou. Completely.”

* * *

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“So Zeramblin is going to let the current legislature expire, it looks like – this was really his last chance to dissolve early.”

“That’s obvious, Jonto,” Alaili Dindraves said, leaning back in her chair. “This isn’t a civics class.”

Jontonius Cethje seethed. Dindraves was a former Floor Leader, and she’d been head of his caucus for as long as he’d been in the legislature. And she was retiring, finally, the old klipkaer, and it was about time.

He said nothing, though. “Of course, Madam Minority Whip,” he said, with a bathetic smile fixed on his lips. He just had to show deference a bit longer, and in three months, he’d be Minority Leader; if all fell out right, he might just end up Floor Leader.

“What’s your plan, Jonto?” Stanenimeus Pron asked; like Dindraves, he was retiring at the end of the term, and like Dindraves, he had decades of experience. They were running the intercaucus meeting, despite the fact that they weren’t running for reelection. Officially, the leader of the liberals had not been chosen for the next term; that left the old guard in charge for one more cycle.

“Zeramblin’s vulnerable, Mr. Minority Leader” Cethje said. “He’s got his north flank grumbling. They are really upset that he put Dosorovitz on the Tarsuss Committee. Weird error on his part, they think he may have given a majority to the pro-human side. Polls show some weakness. If we can get that rolling, it could really hurt Empire. Maybe enough to keep him from forming a government.”

“Are you saying we come out against emancipation?” Dindraves asked.

“We’re not changing our position. Just highlighting that Zeramblin rushed into this.”

“Eight hundred two members of the House rushed into this, Jonto. Including our entire caucus. And you.”

Jonto turned toward the person who interrupted him with mild surprise; she usually had the sense to keep her trap shut when he was talking. Still, he wasn’t stunned. He knew she wouldn’t be happy about this.

“Look, Loona, I know what you’re thinking. Nobody’s saying it was a bad bill.”

“Nobody’s saying it in private. You’re just suggesting we say it in public, as part of our campaign.”

Cethje sighed. “Look, it won’t be our official position. But in targeted districts we can use this to hurt Empire, get a better match-up in the general. Won’t take a lot of seats to flip to throw the north side of the chamber into chaos.”

“They won’t flip to us,” Loona said. “They’ll flip to the Titan Party.”

There was silence for a moment, before Cethje said, “Rep. Armac…are you feeling well?”

Loona shook her head. “Don’t patronize me, Jonto. Have you looked at the polls that you’re citing? Looked at them close?”

“Well, of course I have.”

“So you’ve noticed that the Titan Party’s support has spiked, especially in more rural and colonial districts.”

“So what?”

“So my chief of staff’s model shows that given where they’re gaining, and given the makeup of those districts, they’ll be competitive in sixty districts – and have a better-than-even chance in forty of them. His model suggests they’ll get somewhere between 40-50 seats.”

“Your human says that? And why should we believe that?” Jonto said.

“First, Ammer Smit is her chief of staff, not ‘her human.’ Second, he nailed the last election. Had it within five seats,” Alaili Dindraves said. “Third, my chief’s model says the same thing. What does yours say, Jonto?”

“Models are overrated. You can’t math your way to victory.”

“Wait,” Hayward Daean said. “You haven’t modeled this? I mean, I’m not a big modeling fan, but even I know that you’ve gotta see what the numbers tell you before you put together a plan.”

Jonto blinked. “Look, who’s in charge here?” he grumbled. “All three of you are retiring, and Rep. Armac, I know you’ve got designs on Minority Whip, but right now you’re a deputy whip and that’s as far as you’ve gone.”

“That’s as far as you’ve gone, Jonto,” Luss Kriole said. “And it seems to me that the Minority Leader is in charge. We haven’t taken a leadership election for the next legislature. We’ve all agreed that it’s better to go in without one. But I think you assume a bit much if you think we’re going to back you because it’s your turn.”

Cethje shook his head. “Look, it’s New Empire’s turn to control the Minority Leader slot. We’ve been trading off….”

“We’ve been trading off,” Dindraves said, “because Rep. Pron and I both viewed it as prudent. Both of us have taken turns as leader and whip, because it is better for us to work together than to fight. There is no guarantee, however, that this arrangement will continue in the next legislature.”

Cethje stared at her. “You’re the head of New Empire. Surely….”

“Oh, I have nothing against my successor serving as Minority Leader if he or she deserves it. But I don’t think Forward or Aspire have to agree, nor any other party that’s working with the minority. The most experienced people in leadership on the south of the chamber next term are all deputy whips right now. Nobody’s the prohibitive favorite.”

“Look,” Cethje said, “I know we agreed to not officially divulge the leader, but we’ve agreed….”

“We’ve agreed on nothing,” Kriole said. He was the deputy chair of Forward, and he was growing quite annoyed. “It’s been assumed you’d take over, as you’re the most experienced deputy and yeah, it’s your caucus’s ‘turn.’ Never Forward’s turn, for some reason. But you’ve put less effort into this strategy than a secondary school student. Rep. Armac,” Kriole said, “what would your approach be?”

Loona looked over at Kriole, and gave a slight smile. She wasn’t expecting this, not at all.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t prepared.

“We can’t just worry about the election,” Loona said. “We have to worry about what happens after it. If we make Empire vulnerable to more conservative parties, we end up cutting Zeramblin off at the knees.”

“Good,” Cethje said.

“Not good,” Loona said. “If we perform at our best, we can get close to a plurality, at least if we’re willing to work with the non-Titan parties – and I think we should be. But that’s it – we can get close. It’s almost certain that they will still be able to cobble a majority together even if they have to bring the Titan Party in.”

“Zeramblin would never bring them in,” Jonto said. “He’d form a unity government.”

“Right. What makes you think it would be his call? If Green and Black and the Titan Party and Tradition gain, and Empire loses, then Qorni will make her move. Bringing in the Titan Party would seal it for her.”

“She’s not going to take a shot. She would have by now if she was going to. She’ll wait for him to retire,” Jonto said.

Dindraves laughed out loud. “Jonto, surely you don’t believe that? Qorni hasn’t taken her shot because she knows you don’t shoot at your own Floor Leader and miss. If she thinks she can take him down, she’ll do it in a heartbeat. She might not have to bring the Titan Party in, mind you,” she said to Loona.

“No, true, just the threat of it would be enough for us to support her on the budget; nobody would risk a vote of confidence if it meant the Titan Party gained power. But either way, she could use them to pull this body way north, even if we gain seats in the aggregate.”

“You’re just saying this because your buddy Zeramblin is at risk,” Jonto Cethje said.

“If you think I don’t want to beat Zeramblin’s brains in, you’re cracked,” she said. “I like him, but damn right I’m going to try to beat him, just like he’s going to try to beat me. But beating him doesn’t do any good if it gives the reins to Qorni.”

“So what’s your plan?” Pron asked.

“We run hard against the hard north. We keep our guns trained on Green and Black and Tradition, and leap on any hint that any of them might ally with the Titan Party.”

“Give Empire a free pass?” Cethje asked.

“No, and especially not once we hit the general – at that point, we go all-out for any seat we can win, that’s just common sense. But in the primary, we need to recognize that Empire is not as dangerous as the others. Indeed,” Loona said, “Empire is a potential ally. If Qorni grabs for the Titan Party’s wrists too quick, Empire is a potential coalition partner for the south, and we should be prepared to welcome them with open-arms. And worst-case scenario, Zeramblin survives. We can work with him. He’s wrong on many, many things, but he’s always been willing to work across the chamber. Qorni…Qorni will close ranks and fight.”

“That’s wishful thinking,” Cethje said.

“No, that’s sound strategy,” Dindraves said. “Loona’s right, we can’t get to a plurality. Best we can hope for is to build support and take a good shot in 2129.”

“Fine,” Cethje said. “We’re going into this without unified leadership, we can deal with this without a unified strategy. Armac, if you want to play footsie with Empire, do it – it’s what Aspire’s best at anyhow. I’m going to try to win.”

“Jonto, you’re charismatic. You’re smart. People like you on the trail. And you’ve glad-handed well. But your strategic sense is shaka. If we go in separately, we will lose seats in a cycle where we should gain them. I think we may need to back a leader after all,” Dindraves said.

“Fine. I will ask support of the minority,” Jonto said.

“Sure, you can do that,” Alaili Dindraves said. “You won’t get it. Stan, I can’t ask you….”

“I know, but I will gladly stand aside for a member of my own caucus,” Pron said. “Frankly, it’s good if the public has a face to associate with the south. Therefore, I am resigning as minority leader, effective at the next floor session, and I move that Loona Armac replace me.”

“I second,” Dindraves said.

“As do I,” Daean said.

Cethje looked around at the five other people in the room. “You…but…you can’t…she’s in bed with Zeramblin!”

“That you can say that, Jonto, is exactly why we don’t trust you to lead right now,” Dindraves said. “Rep. Armac has a good working relationship with the floor leader. So does Stan. So does Hayward. So do I. We don’t always agree with him, but that doesn’t mean he’s our enemy. It means we disagree. The Minority Leader needs to understand that their role is not just about the campaign, but about governing. You don’t. She does. Now, Rep. Armac, are you ready for this?”

Loona smiled. “Not remotely, Madam Minority Whip.”

“Good answer,” Dindraves said, with a warm smile. “Because you aren’t. Nobody ever is. But I know Stan will help, as will I. You have our trust.”

“Not mine,” Cethje said. “I’ll take this to a full meeting of the caucuses.”

“No, you won’t,” Loona said, looking at him serenely, “because you’ll force this out into the open. You’ll force Alaili Dindraves, the most recent liberal Floor Leader, to come out against a member of her own caucus. Right now, Jonto, you’re my first choice for whip and minority law leader. And if we handle this quietly, and walk out holding hands and praising each other, that will be an easy sell to everyone. But if you fight this, you won’t be whip, you won’t be deputy whip, you won’t be ranking member on the parades and parties committee, you will be exiled into oblivion. And I won’t be the one to do it – you’ll have done it to yourself.”

Cethje stared at Loona Armac. He had always thought she stayed quiet because she was gun-shy, a bit timid, and aware that she couldn’t outmaneuver him.

It turned out that she had been staying quiet for the same reason a shaar does…until the moment it strikes.

“Madam Minority Leader-designate,” Jontonius Cethje said, after a long moment, “I look forward to working with you.”

“I am sure you and I will get along as well as Zeramblin and Qorni do, Jonto. Now, let’s get back to business,” she said, and the attention of the room was on her. “We need to start looking at what districts we can target. Let’s start in the Core….”

* * *

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Lennox McClure pounded away at the keyboard, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Aputi Perreault was not going to be happy when this story ran, but then, she was the one who tapped Garth Patel as Minister of Public Works, and Garth Patel was the kind of guy who wouldn’t just take bribes on the Arctic Circle Maglev, but who’d take bribes from two competing firms, leaving one furious enough to call up a political reporter with the exact dates and times of transactions. That would have been enough, but the fact that the competing bidders had also thrown not one, but two receptive women at Patel – and that he’d taken both of their services, too….

Well, this was going to explode rather beautifully in the next hour or so. He just needed to finish the edits that had come back, post the article, and prep for the livefeed interview in an hour.

“Why do you use that thing? Everyone knows that it’s faster to subvocalize.”

“I’m in a bit of a hurry, Ronnie, and I’ve explained – I write more clearly on a keyboard. Always have.”

“Subvocalizing is faster.”

“Yeah, and it’s worse, but…okay,” he said, blinking at the “post” button that displayed on his gool. “All right, I’ve got about two minutes.”

“Figures. All right, not much time, but then, you don’t last long, so let’s go.”

Lennox laughed. He and Ronnie had joined the Toronto office at the same time, and…well, working for the most prestigious name in North American news was draw enough, but Ronnie was the clincher.

“Can’t get mussed. Just posted the Patel story.”

“Oh, hell. Won’t see you for a week now,” she said, kissing his cheek. “But congrats, Len. Perreault is going to piss vinegar.”

“We can hope,” he said. “How’s the story on the ’62 Olympics coming?”

“Well, it’s gonna get a kick start,” Ronnie said, walking away. “Patel was overseeing that one too.”

“Nice,” Lennox said, gratified to see that his story was already rocketing up social media. Rumors had swirled around Patel for some time, but now a reputable media site had posted incontrovertible proof. McClure wasn’t some random blogger writing for blinks. He wasn’t some CNN hack. He wrote for BuzzFeed, the gold standard in thorough, well-researched, well-sourced reporting in North America.

McClure’s gool signaled several hundred incoming messages per minute; he ignored all but a few, those from fellow writers. He set up the AI to auto-respond to tweets; it had learned to perfectly emulate his snarky tone, and he kept it down to no more than one every three minutes (letting it auto-answer everything was a total noober mistake; it made it too obvious that they were being written by AI.) He had plenty to do, and….

“Package for you, Len.”

“What?”

“Package,” said Jim Rousseau, the bureau chief, handing Len a small box. “I know, weird, huh?”

“Is it from Ottawa? Does it scan clear for explosives?”

“Nah, from New York. You order something?”

“Not that I remember,” Lennox said. The sender had used old-fashioned cellophane tape to hold the box together; odd all around. Probably some 130-year-old crackpot sending him a missive about how there were too many states in America these days, and could he write a story advocating they eliminate two?

He slid open the package, and was surprised to find a single sheet of paper and a datastick.

“The hell is this?” he said. He plugged the stick into his desk tablet, scanning it for viruses as he read the letter.

Dear Mr. McClure,

You have made your mark as an investigative journalist. I am trusting your ability. There are a great many rumors flowing around these days about our new friends. Some of them are true.

I know this datastick will not be enough. These recordings can be faked. You are sensible enough not to end here, but to start.

After you have listened to this, ask the questions that need asking – of yourself. Then, get in touch with this man:

James R. Palmer

1233 Winger St.

Boulder, CO, USA 80301

Yours,

D.T.

P.S. Don’t bother trying to track me down. If I feel you need more information, I will find you.

“Weird,” McClure said, turning to the datastick. It read clear of viruses, so he quickly relayed the data to his gool, and hit play, wondering why, exactly, D.T. hadn’t just sent the information directly via commlink.

“You must admit, though, Mr. First Minister, it is disconcerting in the extreme,” a voice said. “They view humans as savages, primitive, subhuman. Something to toy with. Can you imagine?”

“Yes, madam president, I believe I can,” the voice said.

“Is that Adaje?” McClure muttered, watching his finger, which traced quick notes in shorthand. He listened on; it most certainly was. And Xylander, and Gupta…and the Avalonian Secretary of Defense, who was….

“Owned?!” McClure said, sitting up straight.

The rumor – the one about humans being owned as pets. Gawker had run it, but that was Gawker, but this….

Was it true?

He looked back at the letter. He had thought nailing Patel was the crowning moment of his career. But this…this could make that look like a dull town council meeting.

Of course, he was a reporter, and that meant by nature, he was a skeptic. Whoever sent this to him had an agenda, no doubt. The Globe and Mail might run a story based on this, but not BuzzFeed. He would need more than just a rumor. He would need proof.

And for the moment, he had to finish out the story he was on. He reviewed his notes, and got ready for the vidfeed. He had this story to finish, these last bits to nail down. That would take time.

But when he was done, he’d head out and follow this lead wherever it took him. Most people were hopeful about the Titans. But if they had evil intent, the public had to know.