I stared up at the metal beams stretching the length of Aaron’s house, supporting the wide open balcony on the second floor, an adage swirled up in my mind.

“The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

As sayings go, it’s horseshit. And that’s not even getting into the terminal velocity pedantry. The saying should be: the higher you climb, the grander the parachute. Aaron was proof of that. If he was a normal person, the racketeering trial would have easily ruined him with legal fees alone. Not to mention the damage to reputation, loss of his vocation, and inherent trauma such a drawn out battle comes with.

It’d taken Mom years to recover from the strain of the trial. She’d only just recently pulled herself out of the bottle, and even now, it was impossible to know whether it was going to stick. Still. If the dome hadn’t come down? She’d have no real prospects. Even if it’s relatively small, even if you can explain it as a reasonable mistake, a felony is a felony. A steel anvil tethered to any resume, sending it plunging straight into the trash.

If her recovery had legs, she would have spent the rest of her life working for minimum or borderline minimum wage. If mom got lucky, she’d only have to do so until one of us could support her. And if she didn’t get lucky—a much more likely scenario—she’d work until the day she couldn’t anymore, or got sick.

With nothing but a guest room as her retirement home.

In terms of contrast, Aaron was doing just fine. He probably made a little less as a lawyer than he had as a hedge fund manager. The house was smaller. Not the massive estate on a hundred acre plot it once was, but not the smallest residence in the gated community, either. When the architect asked him what he wanted, I’m guessing he said something like, “Chic, minimalist, boxy, and post-modern. With a fuckton of glass.”

More curiously, he appeared to have almost no security. Slipping past the rent-a-cops at the checkpoint was child’s play. Once I was in, Azure confirmed that only one of them was a User, and not a particularly good one at that. There were a few security cameras hidden in various bushes and utility poles, but that was it.

So what was it? Was he so confident in whatever he and the rest of the suits were running that he considered himself too big to fail? Or was there some other security angle I wasn’t seeing, like the camouflaged Users at the park?

It was Aaron. Safest to assume both. Take nothing for granted.

I saw him through a corner window. Aaron’s sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and he held a napkin loosely in his grip. It was one of the few times I’d seen him without a tie. He was leaning half-way over, eyebrow raised as if he’d just told a real gut buster. His audience of one—a woman who must have had an absolute prodigy for a plastic surgeon—guffawed, her joyful laughter creating a strangely macabre image without the accompanying sound. She bounced a baby that couldn’t be a day over six months on her knee. Not impressed or not listening, Daphne stared down at her food and poked at it with a fork tentatively.

Aaron slapped her on the shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. Even as she fought it, Daphne cracked a small smile.

Even with the world on its head, some things had barely changed at all.

They looked happy. Whole. The family looked almost picturesque. Untouched by the dome, and everything that came before it. And they’d always looked that way. It was probably what attracted me to them.

I bore down on the swelling heat in my gut. A cool head was the only way through this.

“Azure. Can you get anything from Aaron?” I asked, not getting my hopes up.

“No…” Azure sounded puzzled. “But it’s different, somehow. With Sunny and Miles, it was a perceptible blur. Like something was working to shield them—spending significant energy to muddy their thoughts. Meaning, in theory, I could have broken through eventually.”

“That’s not the case here?”

“It’s like there’s nothing there. Nothing. No wall to break down, nothing for me to tap into behind it. I’d almost assume he was an empty vessel puppeted by some outside entity, but there’s no trace of the astronomical mana required to pull that off.”

I shrugged. “He’s the leader of a powerful organization. Not surprising, that he’s taken steps to shield himself.”

“This is different.” Azure sulked.

“You sure the shield isn’t coming from him?”

I had to be sure.

“From everything I can tell, he’s just a civilian. Judging from how unconcerned she is, he’s keeping his wife out of the loop, but Daphne knows. And she’s worried. Wasn’t even trying to read her mind—she pretty much screamed it.”

“She should—“ I bit the rest off. Aaron locked eyes with me through the glass from his seat at the table.

Shit.

For a split-second, his face was blank, smooth. Processing. Then he smiled widely and gestured towards the front of the house. I awkwardly stepped through the perfectly manicured lawn, circling around to the front to meet him.

“Matthias.” Aaron said, warm voice loud enough to announce my presence to the entire house. “So glad you took me up on the offer.”

Daphne leaned back to look out into the atrium. “Matt?”

I gave her a small wave, and she waved back, grinning. Then the grin died. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was thinking about, because I was thinking about the same thing. The last time we’d seen each other.

The tunnel.

“Have to say, your timing’s impeccable.” Aaron gestured for me to follow him, and I did, my footsteps echoing across the tile. “Council takes up most of my time lately. Too much. Which is why I told them to shove it and took a mental health day. Extra spaghetti on the counter, so help yourself.”

I felt physical revulsion at the idea of eating anything that Aaron had cooked. My eyes were drawn to a massive crystal chandelier on the ceiling. “Looks like you all landed okay. After… everything.”

“We did.” Aaron shot me a pained smile. “It was an adjustment, but we pulled through.”

“Glad to hear it.” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

Standing next to the fridge, Aaron’s wife had shifted the baby to her hip and waited expectantly. “Who’s this?”

“Joyce, this is Matt—Matt, my lovely Joyce, and this adorable bundle of joy…” Aaron kissed his wife’s cheek and took the baby from her gently. “Is Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you.” I said.

“There’s parmesan cheese on the counter. Freshly grated. Your favorite.” Daphne pointed out, her demeanor still muted.

My hand clenched into a fist. Aaron was playing the perfect doting father, but as he held the baby out towards me, all I could see was him using another innocent as a shield.

“We have business.”

“Not at the table you don’t,” Joyce said, mockingly stern. She gave her husband a knowing look. “No negotiations—”

“—At the family table.” Aaron finished. “I remember. So why don’t we all—”

The feeling snuck up on me. This tangible, undeniable drive to escape. Even the idea of staying here a minute longer than I had to was impossible to stomach, let alone the time it would take to eat a bowl of Aaron’s signature spaghetti.

I would not sit here and play house with the motherfucker who burned mine to the ground.

“No.”

“What?” Aaron cocked his head.

“And with a total of one, I’ll do you exactly one more favor than you’ve ever done me. If you’re planning on staying in today, don’t. Go out in public. Somewhere you’ll be noticed, with as many witnesses as possible.”

I watched, in some petty semblance of satisfaction, as Joyce slowly crooked her neck towards Aaron. “Babe. What’s he talking about?”

Aaron chuckled. “It’s an inside joke.”

Was she going to buy that?

“Oh. Well, if you’re going out to the deck to talk business, eat something. You’re too skinny.” Joyce dumped a heaving serving of pasta onto an ornate plate and handed it to me.

Apparently she was. Or she’d elevated the practice of looking the other way into an art form.

“Thanks.” I smiled tightly. The steam from the fragrant sauce scalded my nostrils.

Aaron waited for me at the back door and I followed him outside. Unsurprisingly, the back had more in common with a botanical garden than a typical yard, with an artificial stream that cut down the center, framed by exotic looking trees.

“When are you going to ditch that chip on your shoulder?” Aaron said. Now that we were out of earshot from his wife, he’d dropped the overly cheerful disposition. More than anything, he looked disappointed.

It shouldn’t have mattered to me. Aaron’s approval. But somehow, it did.

“Which chip?”

“The marx-addled rage that flares up anytime you’re reminded that there’s people out there who are more fortunate than others.” He eyed me.

I bared my teeth. “You’re right. I should be more sympathetic. Downgrading from three stories to two must be difficult. Not to mention the reduction in square-footage. You’re pretty much living on the street.”

“How can you not see the hypocrisy?” Aaron countered. The matter-of-fact nature of his voice when he was gearing up for an argument was all it took to hit me with a wave of nostalgia. “You are the one percent. Bonafide Nouveau rich. You maneuvered yourself perfectly, yet you’re still stuck in this poor man’s mindset centered around the idea that everyone with ‘more’ is an enemy.”

“Save the political shit for someone who cares.” I rolled my eyes. Aaron knew that wealth didn’t even make the top ten list of issues I had with him, but he was pushing this conversation in that direction in order to win. Like this was a moderated debate with stakes, rather than a conversation. “Listen, Aaron. I wasn’t bullshitting, earlier. You need to be seen today.”

Aaron’s expression stilled. “Feel free to expand on that. Say what you mean.”

“Not yet.” I settled down on a bench chair and felt the wound on my back scream in irritation. “No one can hear what I’m about to tell you. Your people or mine.”

I guessed—knowing how private he was—that Aaron’s house was shielded somehow. Nevertheless, I pulled up my passive skill menu and activated

“You realize, if you try to kill me here—whether or not you succeed, there will be repercussions.” For just a second, the mask dropped. And what I saw in his eyes felt strangely familiar.

It’s not your time.

I shook my head. “As much as I’d love to rub your nose in it, the old shit between us is buried.”

“Really. Just like that?” Aaron’s expression turned calculated. “Because it doesn’t feel buried. There’s so many lies in circulation, Matthias. Hell, even the dreaded Ordinator can’t seem to keep his story straight. Rumor has it he claimed to be there that fateful night your friend died. More interesting than that, your friend apparently confirmed it. What was her name? Sae?”