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I should not enjoy that.
I do anyway.
Halvek rubs the bridge of her nose. “The selected researchers have agreed to staged peer review under psychological-risk protocols. No one receives the raw shard. No one receives sensory imprints. No one receives unrestricted access.”
“And the public statement?” Sira asks.
Merrow slides a projection across the table. “The public statement classifies Nareth-Kul as a catastrophic site loss caused by extremist sabotage and geological instability. It acknowledges preliminary findings of unusual ancient architecture without confirming age beyond established Precursor timelines.”
I stare at him.
“You want to release the paper to select researchers,” I say slowly, “and lie to the public.”
Merrow stiffens. “We want to avoid panic.”
“That phrase is aging badly around me.”
Ghar’s hand moves from my chair to my shoulder, not restraining, only grounding.
Sira says, “A public delay is not the same as a permanent lie.”
“It can become one,” I say.
“Yes.”
Her agreement lands gently, but it still lands.
I look down at the paper again. My name sits first under the title, followed by Sira’s, Halvek’s, Teren Ikkev ’s posthumous systems appendix, and Brakk listed as technical recovery consultant after forty minutes of arguing about whether “miracle mechanic” met publication standards. It did not.
Teren’s name hurts the most.
He should be alive to complain about the title, invent seventeen worst-case scenarios, and then secretly be proud that the work survived. Instead, I am staring at his name on a paper that says almost nothing compared to what he died near.
My throat tightens. “We release the public statement with a timeline.”
Merrow frowns. “A timeline for what?”
“For expanded disclosure. Six months for preliminary findings. A year for the second paper. Independent oversight for each stage.”
“That is premature.”
“It is accountable.”
“It invites pressure.”
“Good,” I say. “Pressure means this does not vanish into a League vault.”
Merrow’s face reddens. “You continue to imply institutional bad faith.”
“I continue to have pattern recognition.”
Brakk raises his cup in my direction. “She does.”
Halvek watches me for a long moment through the projection shimmer. “Six months for an expanded preliminary report may be defensible.”
Merrow turns to her. “Director.”
“She is right,” Halvek says. “Without a timeline, this becomes suppression.”
