Independence at the Cost of Hunger

The Fields

Amidst the verdant sprawl of sorghum, Li-Ming Phan crouched low, her tool belt jangling softly as she worked with deft fingers. Above her, the expansive dome arched, a triumph of engineering and a shield against the alien desert's hostility. It encapsulated a field that stretched out in neat rows, each stalk of sorghum swaying gently under the artificial zephyr created by hovering robots.

The HAVs (short for Horticultural Adjustment Vehicles) drifted like benevolent specters across the controlled environment, their sensors flickering with soft lights as they regulated everything from temperature to soil mineral content. These floating custodians ensured that no variable went unchecked, preserving the delicate equilibrium needed to sustain terrestrial life within Ventopia Colony 46B.

In this orchestrated symphony of science, the pest zappers were the percussion, their presence less graceful but equally vital. Li-Ming adjusted the wiring inside one such device, her brow furrowed in concentration. With a precise twist, she realigned the electrodes and stepped back as the zapper hummed to life, emitting a satisfying crackle as it resumed its sentinel duty.

An ythropod (a grotesque quartet of legs attached to a chitinous body) scuttled into the invisible electric barrier. There was a brief, intense light as the creature met its demise, reduced to nothing more than a smudge of organic detritus by the zapper's vigilance. Li-Ming watched dispassionately; she harbored no malice for these creatures, but their threat to the crop was undeniable.

Her dual expertise in agriculture and electrical engineering made her uniquely suited for maintaining the fine balance between technology and biology within the colony. The sorghum fields, a sea of gold beneath the very bright sun, represented not just food but survival.

As she moved to inspect the next zapper, her movements were methodical, attuned to the rhythm of this engineered ecosystem. Within the dome, where every breath of wind and drop of water was calculated, there was a semblance of Earth: a memory of green fields under blue skies, recreated light-years from home.

Her boots clicked on the polished floors of the agricultural center as she made her way to the office she shared with her boss, Javon Mitchell. The room was minimalist in design, dominated by sleek interfaces and holographic displays that floated above surfaces like mirages. Li-Ming's eyes immediately found Javon standing before a large digital wall screen, displaying real-time data of the entire operation.

"Javon," she began, not wasting time on pleasantries, "we need more parts for the zappers. Without them, our next harvest could be compromised."

Javon turned, his face set in a grim expression. "Li-Ming, I already told you; we can't get more supplies. The Lurran Consortium has cut us off since the independence declaration. We have to make do for the time being."

"Javon, we're losing meraphytes too. Faster than we can replace them." As she spoke, one of the balloon-like organisms shuddered, its once vibrant hues turning a sickly shade before it drifted lifelessly towards the ground. "They're not just fancy decorations. They're a secondary water delivery method to our crops. What if the artesan wells run dry?"

"I'm director of agriculture, Miss Phan. You don't have to explain their importance to me. You don't think I've voiced these concerns to the assistant director? They've told me the same thing I'm telling you: we'll have to make do."

"Make do? We're talking about food production. Without functioning zappers, we risk infestation and crop failure. I'm going to need another zenigro spanner soon and repair parts to fix fried components. Can't we borrow parts from water extraction?"

"Are you serious? Cannibalizing parts from the water extraction facility isn't an option. We can't afford to lose our primary source of water now that the meraphytes are afflicted with this... blight. Whatever it is."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Li-Ming's hands clenched at her sides. "Sit back and watch the ythropods devour everything we've worked so hard for?"

"Li-Ming..." Javon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We have to prioritize resources. We still have over four hundred tons of edume bars if the crops fail. That's enough to feed the entire colony for months until we can figure things out."

"You gotta be kidding me. If I ever taste another edume bar, it'll be too soon!"

"Is it really that bad, Li-Ming? I actually kinda like 'em. They've got all the essential amino and fatty acids the body needs plus vitamins and minerals. Worst case scenario, we purchase more from private vendors. Hell, we can even buy food from the Squelgians if we need to. They're great chefs, from what I hear."

"Do you even pay attention to the nexus? Where's your HEILO? With this crazy director, we won't be buying food from anyone, let alone the Squellies. Poke-a-dot, freaks..."

"Not very nice, Li-Ming. Besides... they're called florets. Not polka dots. Have you ever even met one?" Javon chuckled. "Look, I know the situation is not ideal, but it's reality. I'll see if there are any alternative solutions besides water pump modulators, but for now, keep those zappers running as best you can."

Li-Ming's eyes narrowed, a spark of dark humor flickering in their depths. "At this rate, Javon, in a year, it won't be just repair parts we'll be cannibalizing," she said with a wry twist of her lips. Her gaze swept over the verdant expanse of sorghum fields, where meraphytes (those peculiar floating plants) bobbed gently in the atmosphere.

"Let me consult TREODVA," she insisted. "Let's see if there's a solution we're not seeing."

He hesitated, then relented with a sigh. "Fine. If you think it might help, use the last five minutes of your shift to talk to the digital know-it-all. But don't expect miracles. We're running on fumes here."

"Thanks, Javon." She watched as he left the office, the door sliding shut with a soft whoosh behind him.

The Digital Know-It-All

Alone now, Li-Ming approached the sleek console in the corner of the room and initiated the activation sequence. The air shimmered, and moments later, a holographic projection coalesced into the form of TREODVA. His styled haircut and sharp clothing seemed more suited for a high-fashion venue than a dusty agricultural dome.

"Good evening, Ming." The Terraforming and Resource Exploration Organizer and Digital Virtual Assistant greeted her with a nonchalant tilt of his head. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Stop with the pleasantries, Tre," Li-Ming said with a chuckle, despite her frustration. "We've got a problem with the meraphytes. They're dying off, and I need to know why."

"Ah, straight to business." TREODVA's holographic eyes glinted. "Looks like someone is in a bad mood this morning. Colony must be short on coffee."

"Cut the sass, Tre. You can analyze data faster than any human brain. So, spit it out."

"Alright, sista. Here's the deal," TREODVA said, adopting a more serious tone. "The meraphytes are being hit by a pathogen. Something bacterial, from the looks of it."

"Can we fight it with antibiotics?" Li-Ming asked, hope threading her voice.

"Antibiotics? What is this, the 2050s or something?" TREODVA replied in jest. "I was thinking we could use dijits or possibly ultra-low frequency pulses of Serrantu waves to burst the bugs without harming the plant cells, which would be protected by their cellulose walls, of course. I'll need tissue samples from the affected plants to be sure. There should be some in the waste disposal section. Let me run some simulations overnight, and I'll have more information for you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Li-Ming mused aloud. "Would've thought a supercomputer could move faster."

"Hey, I work with what I've got, Ming." TREODVA's image flickered slightly, a reminder of the power constraints they were under. "Just give me those samples, and I'll do my magic after my date tonight."

"Your date? Since when does a sentient computer have a date?" she asked with genuine curiosity and a chuckle.

"Um... since about two weeks ago." Tre placed his hands on his hips and stuck his lips outward playfully. "Excuse me for not keeping you up to date with every aspect of my being, Ming! You think I just rest in a state of oblivion while you work and play?" He raised an eyebrow. "I have a life, you know? It's just way more interesting than yours."

"Careful, smartass. Which one of us has the voice authorization access to permanently sentence the other to a state of oblivion?"

"You wouldn't..."

They stared at each other for several seconds. Li-Ming refused to blink her eyes, and she turned her body to face Tre. He leaned in closer and gazed into her with a straight face, unrelenting and cold. After almost a full minute, however, the corners of Tre's mouth began to curve upward, and he burst out in laughter. Li-Ming went to pat him on the shoulder, but her hand passed right through the collection of multifrequency photons that allowed her to interface with her friend.

"Looks like I win. What kind of a senticom loses a staring contest to a human? You aren't malfunctioning, are you Tre?"

Tre, still smiling, tried to regain his composure. "Senticoms don't malfunction like some kind of computer. Emotions are still a new thing for me, that's all. Just get me those damn samples, Ming."

"I'll have one of the HAVs bring several samples from various plants. I think we're dealing with the same pathogen afflicting them all. See ya tomorrow?"

"Where else am I going to go, blueberry?"

"Hey, stop reading my personal files! Just stick to Ming, okay? Míngtiān jiàn."

She made her way out, the weight of the colony's future felt heavy on her shoulders, but at least now she had a possible solution.

Phantoms

Exhaustion clung to Li-Ming like the fine, gritty dust of Thestias' desert as she trudged towards Ohorikoen Park. The day's labor had etched lines into her face, visible only by the park's gentle luminescence that mimicked a twilight sky. She collapsed onto her usual bench, the familiar grooves of the worn metal contouring to her weary body.

Around her, the park thrived with flora and fauna. Bioluminescent vines curled around trellises, casting an ethereal glow onto the pathways. Callosciurus prevostii squirrels scampered across the branches, their tails flickering like wicks of candles in the wind. Ducks with iridescent feathers congregated around the artificial pond, their beaks dipping into the water, filtering out microorganisms engineered to keep the water clean. Iguanas, with scales reflecting a spectrum of colors, lounged lazily on the rocks, soaking up the warmth from the heated stones beneath them.

A soft rustle announced the arrival of Amaud, Min-Jee, and Qian, who approached Li-Ming with the comfort of long companionship. They settled beside her, their presence a balm to the stress that knotted her muscles.

"Rough day at the agridome?" Amaud asked, his voice carrying the soothing timbre of concern.

"Tre's gonna run diagnostics on the meraphytes overnight," Li-Ming sighed, leaning back, and gazing at the constellations painted above them: a sky foreign yet familiar.

"Trust in TREODVA," Min-Jee chimed in, her optimism unwavering even in dire times. "He'll find a solution. It's why you created him, right?"

"Let's hope so," Li-Ming said, her mind replaying the conversation with the holographic assistant. "If not, we'll have bigger problems than cold coffee and fashion faux pas to worry about."

Qian chuckled, the sound mingling with the serene night calls of the park's nocturnal creatures. "You always find humor in the darkest places, Ming."

"I probably got it from my father. After my mom got sick, he would always find a way to cheer me up. He used to call me his little blueberry because I loved eating them so much. He used to ask me, 'Why was the blueberry such a good scientist?'"

"Oh boy. Here we go." Amaud slapped his palm against his face.

"Because..." Li-Ming continued, "it always tried its berry best."

There was a long pause as Min-Jee, Amaud, and Qian looked at each other.

"The very epitome of a dad joke," Qian replied.

"Absolutely atrocious!" Min-Jee added.

Li-Ming offered them a tired smile, grateful for their company and the brief respite it provided from the worries that awaited her tomorrow. "And yet... I still miss him and my mother. Her voice was so soothing. She used to sing to me right before bedtime..."

Twinkle, twinkle, little starship, soaring high and wide,
Guiding through the cosmos, with the stars as your guide.
Dream amid the stardust, where the comets all confide,
Rest now, brave explorer, on the universe's tide.

"Such a lovely voice, Ming." Min-Jee admitted. "You could give Tritonnia Zermonthu herself a run for her money."

Qian chuckled. "That ain't saying much. Tritonnia is mediocre at best. Given her political affiliations, I'm surprised she's even singing."

"Come on, you've got to admit Tritonnia's voice can make the stars themselves weep," Amaud insisted, his eyes alight with passion as he gestured emphatically toward the sky.

Qian playfully rolled his eyes. "Dalontae William's range is unparalleled, though. His harmonics have actual texture, like you could reach out and touch the notes!"

Min-Jee listened, a smile playing on her lips as she soaked in their banter. "Tritonnia may have emotion, but Dalontae's performances are like aural sculptures: every song a masterpiece."

Amaud nodded in agreement. "I hear you, Min-Jee. But there's something about Tritonnia's melodies that resonates deeply with the soul. My soul anyway. Saw her in concert once on the HEILO. Cost me one hundred and fifty uhtzas."

As the debate waned, Qian reached into his bag and pulled out a wrapped package, offering it to Li-Ming with a knowing grin. "Brought you some fuel for thought."

"Thanks, Qian!" Li-Ming unwrapped the sandwich, the savory aroma of melted gizzorath cheese mingling with the fresh scent of herbs. She took a hearty bite, then paused, her expression twisting as the sharp tang of bilimbi sauce flooded her senses.

Li-Ming's taste buds revolted against the sour invasion of bilimbi, her face puckering in distaste. Qian's chuckle resonated in her ears as he leaned closer, his voice laced with mischief.

"Hey, Li-Ming, time to wake up," he teased, his eyes glinting with humor.

"What?" she mumbled.

"I think you heard me. It's time to wake up!" Qian repeated, laughter dancing in his tone. And then, abruptly, the vibrant park and her friends' faces dissolved into the soft darkness of her bedroom.

"Not those three again... What do you want from me?" Li-Ming whispered into the stillness, her voice barely louder than a sigh. She lay there for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before rising from the bed.

Padding across the room, Li-Ming approached the sink where her HEILO waited. It promised a direct neural link to the stream of news and data, but she ignored it for now.

She reached for the small container beside the device and spritzed nanobots into her mouth. The sensation was cool and fizzing as the bots cleared plaque and bacteria from her gums.

Finally ready to face the day (or whatever information the colony deemed important), Li-Ming tapped the HEILO and placed it above her head. The device integrated itself with her neurons while rotating.

The Director's Address

Standing before a crowd in the Ventopia Building's grand lobby was Eu-Meh, the colony director. Dark hair framed her determined face, her brown eyes scanning the crowd as she addressed them with the poise of a seasoned leader. Her business suit, sharp and authoritative, seemed to armor her against any dissent as she spoke of the colony's trials and triumphs.

"Good morning, people of Thestias," Eu-Meh began, her voice resonating with authority. She stood erect, a pillar against the uncertainty that plagued their colony. "Today, I speak to you not just as your director but as a fellow colonist on this harsh frontier."

Li-Ming leaned forward, interest piqued despite her reservations about political speeches. Eu-Meh's dark eyes held a fire that matched the rhetoric she was known for: bold and unyielding.

"Outside this dome," Eu-Meh gestured emphatically towards the vast expanse beyond the Ventopia Building's transparent walls, "lies a planet that does not forgive easily. And yet we thrive. But our success has drawn the ire and greed of distant powers."

She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle amongst the listeners. "The Lurran Consortium would have us believe they are our saviors, offering aid with one hand while tightening the noose with the other." A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

"Then there are the Squelgians," she continued, her tone dipping into disdain. "They demand our tolerance for their own kind yet show none when it comes to humans on their planets. They fight their wars across Vialactea with might but offer little might for our cause."

"And let us not forget the Nabzolians. Their help is conditional, contingent upon shared beliefs: a narrow path we do not all walk."

Li-Ming frowned, recalling snippets of news regarding the interstellar politics at play. Eu-Meh's speech wasn't just posturing; it was a reflection of the tightrope they all walked on Thestias.

"Even our kin from the cradle of humanity, Sol itself, see fit to exploit us," Eu-Meh's voice rose, tinged with a bitter edge. "We fuel their wealth, yet they charge us exorbitant prices for essential goods and services. The Declaration of Independence from the Lurran Consortium will ensure that we will no longer be exploited!"

A wave of applause broke out. It was so loud, Li-Ming could hear the roar from outside her window and within the confines of her own mind as the HEILO continued to livestream the speech within her cerebral cortex.

"My opponent advocates negotiation, capitulation to these external forces. But hear me now," Eu-Meh's fist clenched, "we will not bow down as de facto slaves to anyone. Our independence is hard-won and shall be the bedrock upon which this colony will rise to prosperity."

The crowd surged with energy, voices blending into a chorus of support. Li-Ming felt a stir of hope, tempered by the pragmatism her work had ingrained in her.

"Thank you," Eu-Meh concluded, her words ringing out. "Together, we forge ahead, unfettered and free!"

As the integration with the HEILO faded, Li-Ming sat back, the taste of nanobot-cleaned teeth fresh in her mouth. With a snort of disdain, she muttered a scathing retort to the empty room, "Ridiculous. We'll starve to death with her in charge for another two years." The words hung bitterly in the air, a stark contrast to the cheers that had filled the Ventopia Building moments ago. She flung the HEILO onto the bed, where it landed with a muted thump against the synthetic fabric.

She turned away, the hopeful facade of the colony director juxtaposed sharply against the harsh reality Li-Ming faced daily. It was one thing to preach about independence and resilience; it was quite another to grapple with the fragile balance of life on Thestias. As an agricultural engineer, Li-Ming knew the stakes: food and water were the lifelines of Ventopia-46B, not political grandstanding.

Engineered

"Alright, Tre, let's see what you've got," Li-Ming said as she called up the holographic interface of TREODVA, who shimmered into existence beside her desk. The sentient computer's stylish haircut and attire remained unchanged, despite the colony's austere circumstances.

"Analysis is complete, Mingy," TREODVA announced, his voice carrying a hint of digital fatigue. "You've got a problem with your meraphytes. The pathogen: it's similar to Erwinia amylovora but clearly it's been altered."

"Clearly altered?" Leroy leaned in, his brow furrowing under his mop of curly hair.

"Have I gotta spell it out for you, brotha?" TREODVA quipped, its holographic form flickering as if annoyed by the question. "Engineered, just like your precious floating plants."

"Are you sure, Tre?" Li-Ming pressed, skepticism etching her features.

"Um... listen, Mingy." TREODVA's countenance adopted a more serious mien. "Only one entity in this office can run over a thousand simulations per second on different pathogens attacking plant cells: me. And that's precisely what I've been doing all night on reserved power."

Li-Ming's fingers hovered over the luminescent console, a stark contrast to the dim ambiance of the control room. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the implications of TREODVA's latest revelation. Beside her, Leroy massaged the back of his neck, weariness etching lines into his usually jovial face.

"Engineered by whom, Tre?" Li-Ming's voice was steady, but her mind raced with possibilities, each more troubling than the last.

"Beats me," the holographic assistant responded, his expression unreadable. "Someone who doesn't want you all to have enough water for crops."

"Should we go to Javon with this?" Leroy's suggestion hung in the air like the dust kicked up by a passing rover outside.

"No, Leroy." Li-Ming shook her head decisively. The memory of Javon's dismissal was fresh, his mistrust in TREODVA palpable. "Javon told me yesterday he doesn't trust TREODVA with the power rationing going on."

"Then what, Ming?" Leroy leaned forward, his eyes seeking hers.

Li-Ming took a long breath, her gaze shifting from the console to the star-studded blackness visible through the observation window. In the silence, she could almost hear the gentle hum of the colony's life support systems; a reminder of how fragile their existence on Thestias truly was.

"We can talk to Hui Fen about using TREODVA at full power for..."

"About one hour to be certain it was engineered and another two hours to develop a resistant meraphyte gene to counter the pathogen," TREODVA interjected, finishing her sentence with an assurance that belied the gravity of the situation.

"Can we do that tomorrow?" Leroy's voice was heavy with fatigue. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, sure," Li-Ming agreed, nodding slowly. She felt the weight of exhaustion too but knew there was no rest for those standing between survival and catastrophe. "Let's get a drink. There's something I need to talk to you about anyway."

They both turned to look at TREODVA simultaneously, the hologram flickering slightly, as if aware of the unspoken words hanging between them.

"I mean without the colony-wide self-aware talkative supercomputer listening to us," Li-Ming added, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, excuse the hell outta me then..." TREODVA scoffed, his digital form dissolving into pixels that danced briefly in the air before fading out completely.

Unjaune

The night skin of Thestias stretched vast and eternal, a canvas upon which the cosmos painted its enigmatic art. Closer to this rugged world than Luna ever dared to Earth, Thestias' solitary moon hung heavy in the sky, its proximity casting an ethereal glow that danced across the desert sands.

Li-Ming stepped into Unjaune, the change from the chromatic ballet outside to the dim ambiance within causing her eyes to adjust with a brief squint. The bar was a haven for the weary, a den illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent lamps that whispered secrets to the shadows.

An old-fashioned television mounted on the wall served as the communal hearth around which the patrons gathered. Its screen flickered with the image of Hui Fen, his presence dominating the room despite being confined within the pixelated frame.

"...and so, we must extend our hand," Hui Fen's voice resonated through the speakers, earnest and commanding. "It is time to swallow our pride and seek aid from Squelgia, Nabzolia, or even our own people within the Lurran Consortium. We share blood and history. They are human after all, and so are we."

His words sparked murmurs among the crowd, some nodding in agreement while others shook their heads, their expressions betraying skepticism.

"Director Eu-Meh would have you believe that isolation is strength," Hui Fen continued, his tone sharpening with each syllable, casting aspersions upon his opponent. "But what use is pride when it stands between us and our future? What use is stubbornness when our fields wither and our children hunger?"

Li-Ming crossed her arms, leaning back against the cool metal of a support beam. Hui Fen's speech, while stirring, seemed to her like another politician's promise: full of sound, but uncertain in delivery. She thought about the meraphytes dying in the fields and the secret she and Leroy now shared about their engineered demise, wondering if either candidate could truly navigate the treacherous path that lay ahead for Ventopia-46B.

They sidled up to the bar, the dim light casting shadows across their weary faces.

"Two shots of Zephyr Bloom," Li-Ming requested, hoping for the familiar burn to ease the knot of concern in her stomach.

"Apologies, Li-Ming," came the jayke bartender's synthetic voice, devoid of its usual programmed warmth. "Grubox is out of commission. Most organic stock has been rerouted for nutritional purposes."

"Then what's left?" Leroy asked, his tone flat, echoing the disappointment on his face.

"Apple cider, a rare shipment from old Terra. It's fifteen uhtzas a glass," the bartender replied, gesturing to a few dusty bottles behind him.

"Water will do," Li-Ming sighed, resigned to the simpler option. As the bartender turned to fulfill the order, she caught sight of the moon through the bar's porthole window, its closeness bathing the sands outside in a kaleidoscope of moonlit hues.

"Something on your mind?" Leroy asked, noticing her distant gaze.

"Actually, yes," Li-Ming began, accepting the glass of water passed to her. "I've been having this recurring dream." She took a sip, the cool liquid offering no relief to the dryness of her throat born of apprehension rather than thirst. "It's about these three people: I don't know them, but in my dreams, they're like old friends. Amaud, Min-Jee, and Qian."

"Sounds cozy," Leroy quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's strange though," she continued, ignoring his jest. "They're so vivid, so real. We talk, laugh, debate music... But when I wake up, they're just phantoms: familiar strangers."

"Could be stress," Leroy suggested, taking a long drink from his own water. "The mind plays tricks when we're stretched thin."

"Maybe," Li-Ming conceded, but her intuition whispered otherwise.

"Have you considered talking to my sister about these dreams?" he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "She's good with all that head stuff: might have an angle on what it means."

Li-Ming arched an eyebrow. "She's a physician though, isn't she? Not a head lady..."

"Well yeah. It's true that psychology isn't exactly her specialty, but she's the kinda person that'll see ya without the results being... official. Know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah, I get you." She took another sip of her water as she considered the discretion Lezaria would provide. But could she help?

"Could be stress like I said," Leroy continued. "Or maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something."

"Tell me what, though? That I secretly want to be friends with people having names I've never heard before?" Li-Ming half-joked, but the unease remained.

"Could be anything," Leroy shrugged. "Lezaria can help if it's all in the head, but have you considered that maybe you've crossed paths with these three people before but just don't remember?"

"Why wouldn't I remember people I've met before? One hundred years could go by, and I'd still remember you."

"I'm flattered, truly." Leroy smiled and continued to nurse his apple cider. "Listen though... if you're looking for more concrete answers, there's Jacobi."

"Jacobi?"

"Yeah, my cousin. He's got connections all over Ventopia. If those names mean something here, he'll find out. For a price, that is. And to ensure discretion... no electronic transfers. It'll have to be off the record as well, ya know?"

Li-Ming considered this for a moment before reaching into the pocket of her utility pants. She pulled out a single coin, its surface etched with the intricate emblem of the much-hated Lurran Consortium. She slid it across the table toward Leroy.

"Twenty-five uhtzas," she stated plainly.

Leroy picked up the coin, examining it as if to confirm its value. "That's a start, but Jacobi's time doesn't come cheap."

She sighed, knowing the truth in his words, and dug out another coin. This one was larger, heavier, its edges catching the dim light of the bar as she tossed it down beside the first.

"Make it seventy-five then. But if he's going to bleed me dry, he better be worth it."

"Fair enough," Leroy nodded, pocketing the coins. "I'll let him know it's urgent. And don't worry, Jacobi delivers. Always does."

"Good," Li-Ming replied firmly, her expression hardening with determination. "Because if we're dealing with engineered pathogens and water shortages, I can't afford to chase phantoms. Reality is giving me enough nightmares as it is."

"Understood." Leroy finished his water and stood up, stretching his back. "I'll talk to my sister too. Let her know you'll swing by in the morning."

"Thanks, Leroy. I appreciate it," Li-Ming said, her gratitude genuine despite the frustration that gnawed at her.

"Anytime, Ming. We'll figure this out, one way or another."