Orestes's fingers rested motionless atop the head of his cane. The silence he'd left behind was deliberate.
It settled over the room like a held breath, dense enough that even the distant sounds of the Heritage House seemed to withdraw from it. The faint creak of old beams.
Junior let a few seconds pass. He had learned, over time, that Orestes used silence the way other men used raised voices; not to intimidate, but to test endurance.
Finally, Junior leaned back slightly in his chair.
"So that's it?" he asked. "You acknowledge it. You admit you weren't surprised. And then you close the door?"
Orestes's expression did not change.
"I did not close the door," he replied. "I reminded you that not all thresholds are crossed freely."
Alexis shifted her weight almost imperceptibly. Junior caught the movement at the edge of his awareness. Not unease, but calculation.
"You're telling me that answers come with conditions."
"Yes."
There it was.
Orestes inclined his head a fraction, conceding nothing and everything at once.
"I have already offered assistance," he continued evenly. "Context. Access."
A pause.
"But our agreement has not been fulfilled."
Junior's fingers tightened briefly against the arm of his chair.
"The Trust," he said.
"Engagement with it," Orestes corrected. "With Ms. Phokas, specifically. Participation. Not observation."
Alexis's gaze flicked to Orestes, then back to Junior. She let out a short breath. Not quite a sigh, close.
"We attempted this before. It has not ended well," she stated matter-of-factly.
Junior opened his mouth to protest reflexively, but honesty compelled him to close it back again. She had a point; this wasn't the first time Orestes, or even Alexis, had tried to coerce or cajole Junior into fulfilling his obligations.
For a moment, he considered pushing again while the tension was still raw. But the weight behind Orestes's refusal wasn't stubbornness.
It was structure.
Junior swallowed his pride and nodded, begrudgingly.
"You aren't wrong."
The words were harder to say than he'd expected, as if he had to force them out of his throat.
Orestes's mouth curved, just barely.
"You always did resist being guided," he said. "Even when you understood the necessity."
Junior gritted his teeth. Stubbornness prompted him to open his mouth again, retort at the tip of his tongue. But surprisingly, someone else beat him to it.
"Hey now, go easy on the dude," Millie spoke up defensively. "He's had a lot to deal with lately. Uh, we all have. Of course. Sir. Madam."
She'd started off strong, but by the end, Millie's tone had shifted almost entirely to apologetic.
Orestes and Alexis looked at each other while Millie seemed to shrink in on herself.
"A fair point, Ms. Averry," Alexis finally said. "I apologize."
"A surprisingly stalwart companion, for a neighbour," Orestes commented mildly.
"Yes." Junior stated the word firmly. He wanted Millie to know he didn't doubt her for a second. "She is."
Millie straightened in her chair, shoulders back.
"I'll meet with Alexis," he continued. He kept his momentum going, speaking confidently and deliberately. "I'll learn what's required of me."
"And?" Orestes prompted.
"And I won't treat it like theatre," Junior finished. "I know the difference."
"Good."
Junior wanted to let out a breath, but didn't allow himself to relax. He knew that'd been the easy part, relatively speaking. Preliminary agreement. A show of good faith.
Now … they'd come to the details.
Alexis folded her hands together, posture composed.
"If this is the direction we're moving," she said, "then there are practical steps we should outline."
Junior stifled his sigh again. He remembered when he was younger, he'd gotten quite good at it. He spared a brief moment to pity Millie, but didn't go so far as suggest she might want to leave.
Misery loved company, after all.
\ - / - \ - /
Millie slouched in her chair. She'd long ago given up even pretending to be interested. One foot hooked around the leg of the other, her attention drifting somewhere between the ceiling and resignation.
Alexis, meanwhile, had not slowed.
" ... participation would be advisory in nature," she was saying evenly, "with no requirement for operational approval authority. Attendance may be delegated, reporting intervals adjusted by mutual consent, and all involvement remains subject to existing confidentiality provisions."
Junior listened with half an ear, enough to catch the important parts. Scope. Boundaries. Escape clauses carefully disguised as flexibility.
"Any conflicts arising from external affiliations will be disclosed," Alexis continued, "though no presumption of interference is implied. The Trust's standing mandate remains unchanged."
Millie let out a long, silent breath through her nose.
Alexis concluded without ceremony.
"That is the functional understanding. Formal documentation can follow."
She stopped speaking.
Junior waited a bit longer than necessary, then nodded.
Alexis didn't relax, but a certain amount of tension, of poised readiness, seemed to ease out of her.
Orestes broke the silence.
"There is a matter," he said, "that may serve as both a gesture of good faith and a form of orientation."
Junior felt his focus narrow.
"A site visit," Orestes continued. "One of T&S Marine's peripheral facilities. Maritime Observation Site Delta. Remote. Quiet. Oversight rather than governance."
"This facility reports to the Trust as an environmental monitoring station." Alexis didn't sound wary or suspicious. Just as if she were confirming a detail for future reference.
"And so it does," Orestes said smoothly. She nodded once.
Junior frowned faintly. Not at the proposal itself, but at the care with which it was being framed.
He didn't ask why. But his silence wasn't empty.
He tilted his head.
"Okay, I'll go," he said wearily.
Junior eased back into the chair, letting his shoulders drop slightly. The formalities were over, at least for now. On the surface, he hadn't gained the answers he'd thought he wanted about the System or the Reclaimed.
On the surface, at least.
But his uncle had always reminded him that even the deepest currents cross oceans.
A soft shuffle of feet and the quiet click of the Heritage House doors signalled the end of the meeting. Junior followed Taft from the study and back toward the entrance, Millie and Achilles at his side. The day had begun to dim, shadows stretching across the driveway, hinting at evening.
Once they were inside his car, Junior settled into his accustomed seat, hands resting on the armrests. Millie leaned back in hers, chin propped on her palm, elbow hooked casually over her knee. The gentle hum of the chair's internal systems vibrated through the cushions. Achilles pressed his nose to the glass, still fascinated by the changing light outside.
Millie let out a small breath, the tension of the meeting slipping away.
"You know," she said as the car drove, almost to herself, "that marine observation post thing … sounds familiar."
Junior's brow furrowed slightly. "Familiar?"
She tilted her head, considering him, but her tone was light, casual. "Yeah. Like the sites I do work for sometimes. The layout, the protocols; they're familiar."
Junior felt a flush of guilt run through him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know you've told me about it before, but I'm not sure I remember what it is you do, exactly. But here I am, dragging you with me through all my family drama. I'm not being a very good friend."
"No worries, my dude," Millie responded cheerfully in the face of his soberness. "It's just contract work. Environmental data, trace metals, seawater analysis. Totally boring. Mostly tide-dependent. And occasionally a little nasty if the lattices go haywire."
Junior's mind ticked through what she had just said: lattices, contracts, data, remote marine sites. Everything she casually described lined up neatly with the low-visibility project Orestes had just framed.
"Have you ever been to …" he paused as he refreshed his memory. "Maritime Observation Site Delta?"
Millie shrugged. "Maybe. But if I had, I couldn't tell you. Not sure you have a need to know, Mr. Trust Baby. NDAs, and all that. I'll have to check my contract."
The last was said teasingly, and Junior could hear the grin in her voice, so he chuckled appreciatively.
"And you just … wander out there? On your own schedule?" he asked after a while.
"Not always the main facilities themselves," Millie clarified. "Most often a satellite outpost in some grotto or submerged cave. Within a 48-hour verification window, if the supervisors ping me. Usually, I get SMS or secure relay alerts. Short trips, mostly monitoring for anomalies - salinity spikes, dissolved minerals, that sort of thing. You'd be amazed at how unpredictable seawater can be."
A natural pause in the conversation stretched for several minutes. Junior rested his head back against the headrest.
He wanted to take this seriously. The meeting was the most positive one he'd had with Alexis Phokas in … a very long time. And deep down, he knew that it was long overdue.
But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel like it was all a waste of his time. Trivial. He glanced at the System's blue screen, and sighed.
"So is it just me, or did that not go at all how you expected?" he asked out loud after a long pause.
"Not even close," Millie snorted humourlessly. Then her eyes narrowed. "Especially since somebody totally ambushed me with his wealthy, eccentric uncle and fabulous, old-money wealth," she added accusingly.
Junior smiled weakly. "Hey, it didn't go the way I planned, okay?"
Millie snorted again.
"Fine, I owe you one," he sighed in defeat.
Millie rubbed her hands gleefully.
"Ooh, I've never been owed a favour by a rich 'Young Master' before," she chortled.
Junior tilted his head, unsure about the reason for her odd emphasis, but she continued undeterred.
"This'll be epic!" She grinned as the car glided along the darkening streets.