The Harmon secondary property is forty minutes south of Varenholm on a road that steadily stops behaving like a road. It shifts from paved surface to gravel, then to packed dirt, and finally to something closer to intention than infrastructure. The gate at the end has not been opened in months, judging by the rust and the stillness around it.
Faye’s mother has the key. She produced it earlier with the same calm precision she uses for everything, as if it had always been in her hand and only now become relevant. She is in the back seat with Reth. Faye sits in front beside me. I am driving.
Four people. That is all we need. The compound remains behind us, managing the aftermath and the regulatory cascade that began when the submissions went through. The seventh node is not a military objec
