The warning arrived folded inside Soren’s patrol report.
He came to the kitchen during the dead hour between lunch cleanup and afternoon prep, when the compound went quiet enough for the refrigeration units to sound louder than the people. He used the side door, shut it carefully behind him, and placed one page on the preparation table.
Wren did not touch it immediately.
The heading belonged to the weekly access audit. The entry beneath it listed a civilian border-map request made through a Gamma patrol credential three days after the rejection.
Soren Calloway.
Reason for access: pending clarification.
“Who requested the clarification?” Wren asked.
“Edric’s administrative office.”
The bond pulled northwest, but the danger on the table pointed north.
Soren crossed to the coffee sta
