Rory woke early by any normal person’s standards, but he wasn’t surprised to find his bed empty and a note left behind on the side table. He frowned down at the note, reading it twice very carefully. Her words were carefully written, not rushed or angry, but Rory couldn’t help but entertain the thought that was knocking around in the back of his mind. Her face, the night before, the hollow stare she had while he had spoken of the Tyche. She had reassured him, comforted him even though she was the one who had been hurt, but Rory wondered if the reality of the situation was setting in for her.

The concept of a global war was hard to fathom; that was something their ancestors had done on the broken planet they’d left behind, not something that had ever occurred on Mars. But the treaty had never been broken before, and Rory doubted the Abrahams’ assertions that Cardinal Enterprises was not bound by the treaty would be enough to save them. Would the other cities be content to let the Tyche orbit, assuaged by its mission to protect the only city plagued by the Hive? Rory doubted it, despite the confidence of his colleagues. Clearly, Eden did not share their confidence either.

It was just like her, to comfort him and then leave to process the news on her own. Rory took a deep shuddering breath and wrapped himself back in his blankets on the couch, letting himself indulge in the small relief that came with a shared burden. When Eden returned, he would talk to her about it again, and this time it would be him who comforted her.

Rory stayed cocooned in his blankets on the couch for as long as he could, testing a million scripts and trying to decide what to say when Eden returned, but eventually the morning had slipped away into afternoon with no sign from her. When his phone beeped from the nightstand, he rushed for it, hoping it was her, but his stomach dropped. Conference room A, was all it read.

Sabrina was outside the door of the conference room pacing nervously when Rory arrived, his hair only half tamed and his tie sloppily around his collar. She rounded on him with eyes that seemed more frightened than anything, and grabbed his arm too hard, stopping him from entering the conference room.

“What happened?”

Rory wasn’t ready to panic. For a second, he dared to hope that what frightened Sabrina may not be so terrible; perhaps Paradise had sent someone to steal back their materials and the Tyche was no longer viable. Perhaps the city had not been willing to look the other way and, somehow, Dr. Abraham’s had been stopped.

"All I did is what was assigned to me, alright? Please try to remember that,” she whispered.

Rory’s stomach dropped and his hopes evaporated.

“What are you talking about? What did you do, Sabrina?” Rory searched her face for answers and came up empty.

“I know it's probably not enough, but l didn’t know everything at first. I didn’t realize what it was until the very end. I was only trying to serve my city, Rory.”

"You’re scaring me," he said, but she dropped his arm and left him alone in the hallway, slipping into the conference room.

Rory followed her into the room; she’d taken the seat between Drs. Woods and Abrahams, so he sat across from her, beside Dr. Whitmore. What fresh horror could Abrahams be planning to unleash? Rory fought the urge to run from the room, to excuse himself for the remainder of the project. He had to know. It was too late to back out. He had to see this through.

Dr. Abrahams, once Rory was seated, stood and walked to the front of the room. He was quiet for a moment, though his eyes darted around the room, briefly lingering on each face. Rory flinched as Dr. Abrahams’ eyes landed on him. He had a toothy grin on his face, and his eyes were shining with undeniable madness. Abrahams cleared his throat although the rooms as already silent. Rory wondered if the others were as nervous as he was. Sabrina was fidgeting nervously in her seat but she avoided Rory’s eyes at all cost. She knew what was to come, but it was hard to say by the others’ faces whether or not they knew or if Rory was the only one left in the dark. Judging by Dr. Abrahams’ wild eyes, he wouldn’t be in the dark for long. When he began to speak, Dr. Abrahams spoke with a fervor that set Rory’s teeth on edge, but he thankfully did not waste time getting to the point.

“Our little problem with Paradise has been resolved,” Abrahams said, beaming proudly beneath the sweaty sheen of his forehead. “They will not listen to reason and provide us with what we need, so I’ve devised a motivator. No one will be able to deny us anything once the Tyche is in orbit.”

“What do you mean, Jason?” Dr. Whitmore asked apprehensively. Rory wasn’t sure if he could bear the specifics either.

Instead of answering, Dr. Abrahams moved to the projector and turned it on. He dimmed the lights and took his place again at the front of the room. Behind him, a projection of the Tyche appeared. The same sharp edges and gleaming solar panels. He didn’t notice it at first, but when Dr. Whitmore gasped, Rory peered closer at the image. There was something new, a strange addition at the bottom of the satellite. His stomach twisted. It couldn’t be.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Is that what I think it is, Jason?” Dr. Whitmore’s voice was low.

“It can’t be,” Rory whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina said.

“We won’t have to worry about anyone trying to stop us, not after launch day,” Abrahams said. He was gleeful, practically dancing in front of his mostly horrified colleagues. “Whether they choose to see reason or not is up to each city, but they’ll have no choice but to stand down in the face of progress.”

“There’s no way the city council would allow this,” Rory said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest; this was madness, unhinged madness, but surely it could be stopped by the city council. A watchdog satellite was one thing, but a weapon of mass destruction launched in defiance of the treaty, to threaten another city? None of Haven’s sisters would stand for it. Even if they couldn’t stop the launch, Haven would quickly wither if she was cut off and starved for trade. Or, he realized with an electric jolt, the other cities would construct their own weapons, treaty be damned.

“The council won’t know until it’s too late,” Abrahams said. “And before you get any ideas about running to them, Dr. Lawrence, you should know it’s already too late to be stopped. City police are outnumbered by our Cards and, even if they weren’t, their weapons are no match for ours. The Tyche won’t be left unguarded for a moment until her launch. This is happening, with or without the council.”

“You can’t be serious,” Rory said, unable to stop himself. He saw his own fear reflected in the faces of his colleagues but none of them said a word. “This is insane. This isn’t right. What are you thinking?” He was vaguely aware that he was shouting.

“Settle down, Dr. Lawrence,” Dr. Abrahams said. “I’m more than serious.”

“This will lead to war,” Rory argued. “They’ll stop you, Dr. Abrahams.”

“Nonsense,” Dr. Abrahams said. “Who could stop me? Who could stop a man that commands a laser canon?”

“Dr. Abrahams, please–”

“Get him out of here,” Abrahams hissed. “I’m tired of him dragging this team down. You’re no longer needed, Dr. Lawrence. For now, your insubordination will only have you removed from this team, but I suggest you be very careful in the future. The political landscape and power structures will be shifting in my favor shortly, and you had best pray that you regain my favor before then. Get him out of here. Dr. Woods! Dr. Hardy!”

To Rory’s surprise, Dr. Woods and Dr. Hardy did not hesitate, and leapt to their feet, grabbing Rory by his upper arms and dragging him to the door. Rory couldn’t feel his legs; he felt as though he were very high in the air, looking down at his own body. They threw him out into the hallway, none too gently, and Rory sank against the wall, head between his knees, heaving deep breathes.

He had to be stopped. The Tyche had to be stopped. A terrorist-spotting satellite was one thing but this abomination was another case altogether. But what power did Rory have in the face of this danger? The apocalypse was upon him, and he had helped engineer it.

Rory sat slumped in the hall longer than he intended. He couldn't help it; he was frozen under the weight of his choices. There was some comfort in his removal from the team, he admitted only in the deepest part of his heart. The selfish part. The self involved part. Beneath the thin layer of comfort, the helplessness lay waiting for its moment in the sun. He was no longer a part of the team responsible for bringing war to Mars, but it was too late. That didn’t matter anymore.

The meeting ended eventually. Rory didn't look up but he felt the disapproving stares and derisive noises made in his direction as the others filtered out of the conference room. He ignored Sabrina's whispered apology as she passed by. She didn't linger. He wondered if her words were genuine, if she regretted the monstrosity she had helped create, or if she was caught up in the current of Abrahams’ fervor. When a shadow lingered over him, he knew before he looked up that it would be Dr. Whitmore. His mentor sank down to the floor with a groan and shifted uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?'

"How can I be? How can any of you be okay?'

Dr. Whitmore always wore an expression of patience in his bushy white eyebrows and kindness in his wrinkled eyes. Now it was no different. "I know it feels hard now, Rory, but really, it's for the best. Be gentle with yourself, and find peace with this. I don't like it either, but let's look on the bright side, huh”

"The bright side? How can you see a bright side in this?"

“War is inevitable, my young friend. It is the nature of our species unfortunately. If it had not been us to create the Tyche, it would have been another team under another dome who would threaten us. This is the only way to protect ourselves, Rory. We’re only doing what we must. Haven has been weakened by the Hive for too long; it’s only a matter of time before her weakness draws the wrong kind of attention from beyond the dome. We’ll be safe with the Tyche watching over us.”

“This isn’t about safety anymore, Alan," Rory spat. “It hasn’t been since the beginning.”

Dr Whitmore smiled ruefully and patted Rory on the shoulder. "War is inevitable," he said again. "We should count ourselves lucky to be on the winning side."

Rory couldn't believe what he was hearing from the man who had guided him from student to scholar and from scholar to scientist. "That's horrifying. How can you say that? I know you Alan. You must see that this is wrong. Please! Tell me you see that. There must be a way to stop this still. She hasn’t been launched yet, so we haven't run out of time yet."

Dr Whitman quieted him with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder. "I'm afraid it's too late, son. What's in motion is more powerful than you and l.”

Rory couldn't listen to another word from the man he'd once idolized. There was nothing left to say to him. Trance-like, Rory stumbled to his feet, holding on to the wall for support. He had to get away. Whitman called after him, but Rory didn't stop moving until he reached the elevator.