Clashes between Hyoron rioters and human forces continued well into the temporal night, a constant refrain of violence against the dull hum of the machinery in the depot. In the warehouse, faint flickers of distant flames danced on the walls opposite the top roof windows, blending with the red dwarf twilight in a ballet of destruction. The roar of aircraft, distant booms of precision guided munitions and the low hum of drones blended together with the machinery noise into a grinding symphony.

  But in the repair depot there was no distinction between human and Hyoron, nor was sleep possible. All workers huddled near the break station at the core of the compound, taking turns lying with eyes open on the benches and drinking water from their respective race’s fountains.

  A sharp chime sounded in her mind.

  >Private message received.

  Luo Xixi ignored it. She was hypervigilant, only commuting between her hiding space underneath the heavy metal desk, the human water fountain and occasionally, the bathroom. She imagined that any moment, the world would ignite and it would all be over. A “precision” guided bomb that crashed through the roof and incinerated everyone. The door being pounded open by a blood crazed Hyoron mob. Yet terror soon gave way to exhaustion and an unwanted sleep.

  Another chime sounded. It was three hours later. The sun hadn’t moved. It never moves. Not on this planet. She opened the message. 5 messages, all from Le Quan.

  >Hey, are you OK?

  >Heard there was unrest near your workplace?

  >WTF?

  >Not cool. Whatever.

  >Wow.

  She sent a quick reply.

  >I’m OK, I just got stuck at work.

  The message status turned to read, but there was no dialogue, just her left on read.

  Luo Xixi mentally opened the news neurocast. There was nothing on the specifics of the riot, but she didn’t need additional reminders. The government did acknowledge rising unrest and diversion of additional stabilization forces from the nearest passing starships. What that meant was anyone’s guess.

  Chime. A workplace message she was forced to listen to.

  >Synth depot 3A-2 employees. Unrest warning no longer in effect. Infrastructure repair is now in effect.

  >You have been granted paid leave of: 120 hours.

  >Hyoron workers: disperse to Hyoron designated regions. Do not approach Checkpoint 5A.

  >Human workers: disperse to Compound 3 through Checkpoint 5A only.

  >Do not report to the work unit until further notice.

  Eternal twilight awaited outside the doors, with a rose colored sky near the sun fading to a dark gray on the other end of the sky. The street was cleared. No trash. No overturned transporter. No blood. No screaming. No roaring. A new defensive line had formed behind a barbed wire and sandbags - this time not police, but masked soldiers with visors wearing the green flight suits and gray exoskeleton armor of Directorate marines. They stood at attention behind sandbags, along with armored vehicles with guns alternatively pointed at the Hyoron sector and the human checkpoint.

  Her new Hyoron colleague shuffled past her as she was contemplating at the door and scurried to the Hyoron sector under the watchful eyes of the marines. It was a reminder for her to start moving her feet.

  The walk to the checkpoint had seemed so short before when she had someone to walk with, but today it was an arduous march. Unlike the colonial police, who at least had glasses, the only thing human about the marines was their overall shape, their eyes hidden behind a black targeting visor. The checkpoint. The gateway. The walkway to her room. All so familiar, but now a dizzying mix of glaring white LED lights, crowds and noise. It was a miracle that she managed to stumble back to her address, undoubtedly subconsciously aided by Neuronet navigation.

  She tossed off her shoes in the walkway and put on some slippers. The austere room had never looked so welcoming. The digital window was now a vision of a golden grassed field, much like the homeworld. Her bed-desk with scratchy sheets and rock hard pillow now looked like a cozy sanctuary. Luo Xixi threw off her clothes and curled up with one of her small luxuries, a small stuffed animal she had brought with her, almost like a softer, pinker Hyoron in miniature. Outside there was a mass of humanity, yet she was utterly alone. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks before fitful sleep took her again.

  Luo Xixi woke up in hunger. What time was it? She looked up in her mind at the mental status bar.

  >Local time: 1414.

  Being at home at this hour was an unsettling sensation. An immense emptiness and boredom overtook her. Yet her surroundings had not reflected this change. The digital window had sensed her sleep and had automatically tuned itself to a night scene while playing gentle sounds.

  >Order delivery. Ramen with textured vegetable protein. Self location. Autopay.

  Within 5 minutes, a mental chime sounded again. It was the delivery synth with her food. She jumped in a startle. Every surprising sound was a threat, every interruption a menace.

  After finishing her meal at the desk portion of her bed-desk, she lay down in the bed section again. She could scarcely keep her eyes open, but attempts to put her neurons to rest were futile. There was still no news of the riot on the news neurocast. Attempts to relieve the boredom all failed, yet going outside seemed to be putting her life at risk. Fast forwarding through subjective time would do nothing except put her at the same place with the same boredom, just a few hours older and with a slightly dry throat.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Luo Xixi pushed herself off the bed. Coffee. A simple coffee to wake herself up was all that was needed. She put on her clothes and stepped outside. The minute the outer door opened, a blast of human activity intruded her space. Lights. People. The murmur of the crowd. Propaganda. s. It was too much. She slammed the door shut and took a deep breath to calm down, before opening the door again carefully.

  >Filter ambient noise. Lower visual brightness 10%. Luo Xixi’s nervous system adjusted with a small bit of difficulty, but the sound slowly faded beneath the noise filter, leaving her with an empty silence.

  Despite the implant’s best efforts, the cafeteria's noise was still a wall of sound, each clatter of a tray the memory of a gunshot, each shouted order a barked command or enraged yell. She chose a corner seat with her back to the wall, the warm ceramic of the coffee cup doing nothing to melt her icy blood. She heard the laughter first, a loud, almost arrogant sound that cut through the din. Then she saw him. Le Quan, his arm around a woman with vibrant synthetic tattoos snaking up her neck, an obviously unnatural hair color and speaking the local dialect that her now dulled hearing could hardly parse. He had changed in the last few weeks since she last saw him, with his own tattoos and piercings restored, as opposed to the clean, almost core world look he previously sported on their dates.

  Their eyes met across the room. His smile didn't falter, but it cooled, hardening into something like recognition and dismissal all at once. The Neuronet chime in her head felt like a physical blow.

  >You had your chance. I’m moving on.

  The coffee tasted like sludge. She leaned back and closed her eyes. A new message appeared as a flashing red dot burning in her mental vision. It brooked no refusal.

  >BETA SAGITTARIUS COLONIAL POLICE - COMPOUND 3, SECTOR 5A

  >Citizen Luo Xixi. You are requested to attend an informational debriefing regarding recent civil disturbances near your workplace: Synth depot 3A-2.

  >Report to police station 5A.

  >Please indicate your preferred compliance method:

  >OPTION 1: AUTONOMOUS COMPLIANCE

  >OPTION 2: ASSISTED COMPLIANCE

  >Non-response by 1700 will be interpreted as selection of Option 2.

  The text pulsed gently. It was the most frightening thing she had ever read.

  Police station 5A was another set of clean sliding doors carved into monolithic whitewashed concrete walls, less than 15 minutes from her home. The receptionist, a young colonial man in civil police uniforms, smiled at her and waved her in. A few human criminal suspects were sitting in chairs, shackles on their hands and feet, awaiting processing. There were only 3 things out of place: a few marines in full armor, a few masked figures wearing an obsidian black uniform, and a staggered flow of what she recognized as core worlders walking into a room, seemingly free.

  The receptionist motioned for her to follow them. It was a command disguised as an offer. A marine walked a few steps closer to her before stopping wordlessly, indicating that her participation was not optional.

  Luo Xixi was led not to a cell, but to a sterile, neutral-colored common room. A dozen others were already there, sitting on minimalist furniture, their postures a mix of confusion and resignation. They all had the look of core worlders: softer clothes, softer face and a particular blend of anxiety and entitlement. A serving synth was making its rounds, offering snack bars and water to soften their detention.

  A man with a neat corporate haircut approached her. "Are you a prisoner too?" he whispered.

  Before she could answer, a marine at the door spoke, his synthesized voice flat. "You are not prisoners. You are material witnesses assisting a planetary stability audit."

  "Then can we leave?" the man asked, a sliver of hope in his voice.

  "Not yet."

  The trooper's gaze swept the room, and the finality in those two words sucked the air from the space. Not yet. It wasn't a reassurance; it was a sentence without a defined end. Luo Xixi found an empty seat, the reality of her situation crystallizing. She wasn't a person; she was a resource. And the Directorate had just checked her out of the library.

  A man clad in obsidian black walked over to her. No police badge was visible, only a small Directorate flag pin. He was of thin build, lightly tanned skin and a neatly parted clump of black hair hiding the long arms of his tac glasses near his ears.

  “Please come with me.”

  She was led down a short beige hallway lit by LED lamps. Guards flanked each corner of the hall with rifles drawn, their faces hidden behind tac glasses and breather masks. A metal door swung open to a spartan room. Concrete floor. Metal desk. Two chairs. Lighting panel.

  “You can enter. This is just a simple chat. I’m one of the auditors with the Ministry of Internal Affairs assigned to improve planetary stability.”

  The auditor sat down in his chair and leaned back, the first human gesture she’s seen from any member of the government so far. Yet even this seemed practiced somehow, uncanny, as if it was a program designed for humans like her to let down her guard.

  "Your actions were… courageous. But they carried great risk."

  He let the word hang. Risk.

  "However, risk can be managed. The Directorate has many engineers. It has a deficit of engineers with your initiative. You have invested substantial personal capital in acquiring contextual tools for this environment."

  Luo Xixi stared silently at the metal table between them.

  "We notice that you have some trouble fitting in with the colonials. I understand. I am a core worlder myself. Delta Draconis c. Been here for 10 years. 80 if you count the stasis.” For a second, his practiced smile slipped into something weary and real before his mask reasserted itself.

  So he was human after all. Or at least was, at one point. She nodded disinterestedly.

  “You have seen what happens when misunderstandings occur,” he said again, referring to the riot. She shuddered. The acrid bite of smoke in her nose. The roar of the mob. Gunfire.

  “You also have the tools to prevent further misunderstandings. You downloaded the Hyoron database of your own accord. That is an unexpected level of initiative.”

  Luo Xixi coughed in acknowledgment. She didn’t know what words to say. Her knee shook uncontrollably under the table.

  “Luo Xixi, you have unique skills that would be of great benefit to the Ministry and the Directorate. You can be an ambassador of peace. All we ask is that you continue observing the Hyoron, and the humans around you, while letting us know of your progress.”

  She continued to stare at him silently. What did it matter, couldn’t they just download the database and spy on everyone themselves?

  Almost as if he could read parts of her thoughts, the auditor immediately clarified himself.

  “We need someone with existing rapport with the Hyoron, as well as experience interacting with colonials outside of work, to truly understand the complex dynamics of this society. As you know, Neuronet adoption here is quite incomplete.” He said it like a teacher stating a fact.

  Luo Xixi let her guard down and instinctively nodded a bit, before holding herself back and stiffening her jaw again. The ease with which she began to casually agree with her captors was startling.

  “If you are worried about the effect on your work, don’t worry. We will help you delegate the more tedious parts of your current role while maintaining your title. In addition, the Ministry is generous to high value personnel like yourself, even working part-time.”

  He fell silent and smiled with the same uncanny precision as before. The offer was not a choice.