The quarterly board meeting started at nine sharp.
Twelve members around the table. The legitimate side of Montague operations, the part the world saw and all twelve of them served. Sera had chaired this meeting four times now. The first time, three of the twelve had watched her with the specific quality of attention that meant they were waiting to find out whether she was real. Two years of numbers later, none of them watched her that way anymore.
She opened without preamble.
"The Devlin results first," she said. "Then the northern portfolio review. Then the foundation allocation, which we're resolving before lunch."
Twelve people settled. The room found its productive stillness within the first two minutes, the way it did when a meeting was run well. She had learned to produce this f
