**Earth: Day 137, Hour 7**
The conversation with Yara had been coming since Day 75, when she'd described the highland relocation plan in the same tone she used for operational assessments: matter-of-fact, already decided, outlining the when rather than the whether.
She came to the coordination post at Hour 7 on Day 137, which was specific enough to suggest she'd picked the time deliberately.
"The last residential gate closed yesterday," she said. The southeastern industrial district apertures were the final ones in the city's inhabited zones. "The displacement population has resolved — the last three Hounds are confirmed in the highland corridor."
"Yes," I said.
"Which means the eastern sector's tactical situation is stable," she said. "The defensive posture doesn't require what it required three months ago."
"No," I said.
She looked at me directly. "Nassiri knows."
"Yes. He told me on Day 130 that you'd been preparing the handover documentation."
She absorbed this with the faint expression of someone who discovers the thing they'd been keeping quiet wasn't particularly quiet. "The highland zones have seventeen confirmed sensitives I've identified through the coordination network. Zero framework contact. They're developing in proximity to active apertures with no support structure." She paused. "The Tower assets are there too. Not hostile, based on your last report. But not integrated."
"No."
"I want to integrate them," she said. "Or at least understand whether integration is possible. The Tower mages and the sensitives in the highland zones are both in contact with the same thing. Neither group has the full picture. There might be something in combining what they're each developing separately."
"Or they might be incompatible and the combination creates problems I can't predict," I said.
"Yes," she said. "Which is why it needs someone there rather than here." She held my gaze. "I'm not asking permission."
"I know," I said. "I'm not the person you'd need permission from, and you wouldn't ask for it anyway."
The corner of her mouth moved. "Nassiri gives formal clearance. You give the data I don't have — full Zalarus root structure for the highland maintenance zone, Tower asset profiles, the substrate contact diagnostics you ran on the secondary channels. Everything that makes the difference between going in prepared and going in less prepared."
"The data is ready," I said. "I've been compiling it since Day 115."
She looked at me. The same expression Nassiri had used: *you've been doing this thing where you identify what needs doing and then hand it to whoever is best positioned.*
"Two other sensitives from the network are coming with me," she said. "Dani's staying. He's the best structural assessment resource for the reconstruction phase and he knows it." She paused. "The intake worker from Zone Four — Miriam — is staying to run the civilian coordination. Your mother is staying."
"Yes," I said. "She is."
"Which means you're staying."
"For now," I said.
Yara was quiet for a moment. "The thing in your left shoulder," she said. "The substrate contact. Can you feel the highland apertures from here."
I ran the contact. At maximum range, the highland geology apertures were faint — the distance was significant, the substrate signal attenuated by the intervening rock. But present. "Faintly. At range."
"Good," she said. "If I need you to read something I can't read myself, you can."
"Yes."
She stood. "The handover documentation is filed with Nassiri. My field reports start when I arrive in the highland zone, same format, daily."
"I'll read them," I said.
She went to the door. Then stopped without turning. "The ethics conversation you had with your mother," she said. "Day 115."
I hadn't known she was aware of it.
"I had one too," she said. "With myself. About the heat-sense and what I used it for in the first three months." She was quiet for a moment. "What she said. Words come after. Sometimes long after." She left.