Sera chose a night when her mother was working late in the administration building. She forged an access pass and brought Kael into the Middle District for the first time.
He'd never seen anything like it. The corridors were lit with something close to natural daylight. The air was fresh, not recycled and stale. People walked freely, without the desperate hurry of the Lower District. There were children playing in common areas, eating food that looked abundant.
Kael felt a kind of vertigo looking at it. He'd known intellectually that the districts were different, but seeing it directly was something else entirely.
Sera's family quarters were luxurious by station standards. A main room with comfortable furniture, a small kitchen area, separate bedrooms for each family member. It felt like a completely different world.
Lydia was working on her personal computer when Sera and Kael entered. She looked up, startled, and then saw who was with her daughter.
"What is this, Sera?" she asked, standing up, her voice sharp. "Who is this person?"
"His name is Kael," Sera said calmly. "He's from the Lower District. And he's here because I need to tell you something, and you need to hear it from someone other than me."
Lydia's expression hardened. "Get him out of here. Now. Do you understand what could happen if the guards find out about this?"
"Yes," Sera said. "I understand exactly. That's why I'm telling you. And that's why I need you to listen."
Something in her tone stopped Lydia. She remained standing, but gestured for them to sit. Kael had never seen a Middle District home before, and the furniture felt strange and soft compared to what he was used to.
Sera told her mother everything. About visiting the Lower District, about learning the extent of the inequality, about the data she'd accessed, about the resistance group they'd formed. She told her about the plan to open the barrier, and about the Council's intention to reduce resources further, which would cause mass starvation.
Lydia listened without interrupting, though her expression cycled through shock, anger, and something that looked like grief.
When Sera finished, Lydia sat down heavily.
"You're describing treason," she said finally. "What you're planning is the most serious crime in the station."
"Yes," Sera said.
"You'll be executed."
"Probably," Sera agreed.
Lydia looked at her daughter for a long moment. "Your father used to say that the worst thing about the system was that it required good people to participate in evil. That we'd all become complicit just by accepting things as they were." She turned to Kael. "You're telling me that the Lower District is as bad as I suspect?"
Kael hesitated, then decided that honesty was required here. He told her about his father, about the mortality rates, about watching people die from preventable causes, about the deliberate cruelty built into the system.
Lydia listened to all of it, and when he finished, she went to her personal safe and removed a document. It was old, worn, kept carefully. She handed it to Sera.
"This was your father's," she said. "The proposal for system reform. He asked me to keep it safe after the Council rejected it. He said that one day, someone might need it. Someone brave enough to finish what he started."
Sera took the document with shaking hands.
"I've thought about him every day since his execution," Lydia continued. "I've asked myself if there was anything I could have done differently, anything I could have done to save him. And the answer was no, because the system requires the death of people like your father. It requires the sacrifice of anyone who threatens the hierarchy."
She looked between Sera and Kael. "If you do this, if you open that barrier, you need to understand what it means. It means you're willing to die for change. Not die hoping for change, but die knowing that you might not live to see it. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Sera said without hesitation.
Lydia took a breath. "Then I'll help you. Not by participating in the breach—if the Council sees me involved, it will be seen as administrative corruption, and it might discredit the entire action. But I'll help you plan. And when it's over, I'll testify to what happened. I'll make sure the Council can't dismiss this as mere violence or chaos."