A memorial portrait of Mara stood beside the stage.
The photograph had been taken before Greyhaven.
She was seventeen, unscarred, smiling into the sun.
Silas Ellison stood at the podium.
“My eldest daughter believed technology should serve human progress,” he said. “Today, in her memory, we complete the partnership she devoted her life to building.”
Lucian sat behind him.
Vivienne’s chair remained empty.
No one asked why.
Beneath the harbor, Mara guided a maintenance vessel through the submerged service corridor.
She wore black diving equipment over a fitted thermal suit. For the first time in years, the scars along her shoulder and spine were uncovered without apology or explanation. They were simply part of the body carrying her forward.
Roman swam beside her.
Keira remained at the lighthouse, connected through a bone-conduction earpiece.
“Security believes Roman is approaching from the western docks,” Keira said. “They have moved most armed personnel away from Saint Orison.”
Mara checked the underwater gate.
“Darius’s access codes worked?”
“Perfectly.”
Roman’s voice entered the channel.
“He seems motivated to avoid spending the rest of his life in a sealed room.”
Mara attached a manual override to the gate.
“Are you disappointed?”
“That he is cooperating?”
“That he is alive.”
Roman did not answer immediately.
“Yes.”
She appreciated the honesty.
The gate opened.
They entered the submerged foundation of the Glass Court and climbed through a maintenance hatch.
Music from the ceremony vibrated through the metal walls.
Roman removed his mask.
“Once we enter the upper level, you stay behind me.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“I know the building. You know gunfights. We will each lead when appropriate.”
“This is likely to become a gunfight.”
“Only if your plan replaces mine.”
Roman almost smiled.
“That sounded like a threat.”
“It was a project-management statement.”
They reached the engineering floor.
Two guards waited outside the control room.
Roman crossed the corridor before either man could raise his weapon. He struck the first guard beneath the jaw, twisted the second man’s arm, and lowered both to the floor with brutal efficiency.
Mara looked at the unconscious men.
“Are they alive?”
“Yes.”
“You checked quickly.”
“I am learning what questions you ask.”
Inside the control room, Mara connected directly to the Glass Court network.
On the screens above her, Silas invited Lucian to sign the merger agreement.
Lucian approached the ceremonial table.
“Where is Vivienne?” Mara asked.
Keira answered through the earpiece.
“Saint Orison’s internal cameras are offline.”
“Can you access thermal imaging?”
“Working on it.”
Roman watched the security feeds.
“Six armed men are moving down the eastern stairwell.”
“Can you delay them?”
“Yes.”
“Without killing them?”
He gave her a patient look.
“I heard you the first nine times.”
Roman left the control room.
Mara entered the Orpheus directory through the hardwired network.
The system requested Vivienne’s authorization.
A new video feed suddenly appeared.
Vivienne sat inside a chamber beneath Saint Orison dry dock. Her hands were secured to a metal chair. Water covered the floor around her ankles.
Lucian’s voice came through a speaker.
“Mara, I know you are inside the Glass Court.”
Mara froze.
His face appeared in a small window beside Vivienne’s image. He was still standing onstage, smiling politely while shareholders applauded.
He wore a concealed earpiece.
“You should have remained dead,” he said quietly.
Mara activated her microphone.
“You should have designed a system that didn’t recognize your voice.”
Behind Lucian, Silas continued speaking to the audience, unaware of the private connection.
Lucian’s smile did not move.
“Authorize the merger, or the chamber containing your sister will flood.”
“You need Vivienne’s profile.”
“I need either Ellison sister to approve the transfer.”
“If I approve it, you release her?”
“Yes.”
“You sank a vehicle to convince the city I was dead.”
“A necessary performance.”
“You trafficked people through humanitarian ships.”
“An accusation without evidence.”
“I am looking at the evidence.”
Mara opened the ghost-route archive.
Thousands of records appeared.
Names.
Ages.
Ports.
Payments.
Photographs of passengers hidden inside machinery compartments.
Lucian’s composure slipped.
“You cannot transmit those files. The building’s external network is isolated.”
“I know.”
Mara initiated a local safety protocol.
Every transparent wall in the Glass Court transformed into a display.
The audience gasped.
Silas turned from the podium.
Instead of harbor views, the glass now showed Lucian’s shipping records. Photographs of sealed compartments appeared across the walls. Lists of missing people scrolled over the windows. Payment orders linked Crowe Energy to private militias, corrupt officials, and illegal detention centers.