Vash and Corbin sat in the office, sleep-deprived and dejected. Mechanical sounds amplified the silence between them, the constant quiet whirring and clicking of the memory machine, the hum of the air-conditioning unit. Both sipped their coffee and waited for the other to speak. Vash crushed another tab of Integrity and stirred it into his cup, ignoring Corbin’s sideways glance.

In the long hours before sleep had finally claimed him Vash had picked over the day’s events in his mind, untangling failures from honest mistakes, looking for policies he could pursue to prevent it from happening again. Tormenting himself with how events might have played out had he done something differently.

‘It was a bluff,’ he said into the emptiness.

‘What?’

‘The Dyn, the voice on the phone, it was bluffing.’ Vash turned to look out the window, but his gaze got lost somewhere in the middle distance. ‘I’m almost certain of it.’

‘Why didn’t you call it?’ Corbin asked. ‘You should have called it.’ There was an edge of anger in his voice.

‘Perhaps I should have,’ Vash replied, his mind still elsewhere. Then he turned to Corbin.‘But I didn’t say I was certain. Even if I thought there was a ninety-nine per cent chance it was a bluff that wouldn’t have justified me gambling with the lives of millions.’

There was something different about Corbin- something Vash hadn’t seen before.

‘I’d have taken those odds. If you back down whenever they threaten us that will just make them threaten us more. You have to show resolve against an incredible threat or they’ll never stop. You have to show strength.’

‘The threat was credible – you just have to look at the statistics. No orbital strikes against civilian population centres for almost a century, and then the rate starts to gradually creep up over the last dozen years. There was one on the outskirts of Fifteen a matter of days ago. Things are falling apart, and the Dyn are reacting the only way they know how. It isn’t a strategy or a power play, it’s just the sort of thing the Dyn do. They see ants swarming below them and stamp.’

‘Why would you suspect them of bluffing?’

Vash stood and walked over to the window, as though to take in the whole of Conurbation One. He watched Corbin in the reflection.

‘Because it doesn’t make any sense,’ he explained. ‘We don’t understand them, not with any certainty, but they are not irrational. The Dyn know the chaos a strike on the Hollow Tower would cause. They know that given time we have the facilities to disperse the crowds.’

After a pause, Corbin nodded, and whatever Vash thought he had seen slipped back beneath the surface.

‘Then why bluff?’

Vash shook his head, lost in thought again. ‘There was something different about the voice, Corbin. It was more… Eloquent. Engaged. Something has changed.’

Another silence stretched between them. Corbin finished his coffee and placed the cup down on the desk with a sense of finality.

‘What’s next on the agenda?’ he asked breezily.

‘I’m resigning. Tomorrow morning. Over a hundred people died on my orders yesterday. My role will go to someone less compromised. To you.’

A flicker crossed Corbin’s face; Vash knew he would find the offer hard to resist.

‘You’re testing me, aren’t you?’ Corbin laughed. ‘I’m a glorified Enforcer.’

Vash took another slow sip of his coffee.

‘I was nobody, Corbin. I was only ever important because of blind luck. I never chose this. There’s no reason you couldn’t take my place.’

‘You know better than I do the Dyn would never accept that. To them our roles aren’t interchangeable – as far as they’re concerned you are the ambassador.’

‘They could come to accept a new ambassador in time.’

‘Vash, with all due respect, you’re a brilliant bureaucrat but a terrible politician,’ Corbin laughed. ‘What would your resignation achieve? Would it salve your conscience? Arco is not accountable – you’re not constrained by the laws that govern other men. What do you think would happen if all of us working for the greater good resigned whenever we had to make a hard decision? The only people left would be the Meyers of this world. Besides, it’s not as though you haven’t had to make such decisions before.’

‘I’m not doing it for my conscience,’ Vash said, well aware of Corbin’s sceptical expression. ‘This time it was different. I’ve learnt to live with the resentment of twenty-two billion people. But I don’t give the orders, remember? I’m a messenger. If the Directors see me as more than that all hell will break loose.’

‘Well,’ Corbin said, brightening up. A thin smile crept across his face. ‘One step ahead of you. I think I may have a solution – a way to regain your credibility and solve a few… pressing institutional problems in one swoop.’

‘Really?’ Vash said. ‘Go on.’

Vash started when Corbin explained the scheme. The whole plan made him feel distinctly uncomfortable; it might be expedient but it was wrong.

‘No,’ Vash said, after a moment’s thought.

‘Ah,’ Corbin replied, eyes darting downward. ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. Although I suspected you might…’

‘What have you done?’

‘The plan’s already set in motion. You’ll give the speech tomorrow morning.’

Vash lay quite still in his bed, staring at a patch of damp on the plaster of the ceiling above while he allowed the sweat on his brow to dry. The grey light of another dreary dawn seeped in through the slatted blinds. A watch ticked from the side table. He slowly folded back the starched white sheets and walked over to the room’s small chipped basin, splashing some cold water onto his face.

He’d considered dressing down Corbin, demanding he reverse the scheme he’d constructed. The man held no authority over him in these matters and to go behind his back… But he knew Corbin was right. His petty personal concerns and even the lives of hundreds; ultimately none of it mattered when compared to his responsibility to the billions of people across the Earth.

He dressed slowly and precisely in a clean suit, fastened the watch around his wrist and dropped another tab of Integrity into his coffee, then left his meagre apartment, shrugging on his overcoat on the way out. At the bottom of his apartment block, a sleek Arco hydrogen-steam car awaited him. The journey to Conurbation One’s administrative compound passed in a blur of detachment, as though there was more than a pane of bulletproof glass between Vash and the world outside. The grey stacks of mass-produced housecubes and looming pyramidal arcologies slid by; civilian traffic parting ahead of the motorcade. Enforcers waved them inside, and the car came to a halt, an aide opening the door for him. Even now this kind of treatment made Vash uncomfortable, but it was what people expected.

Vash strode through the sprawling compound, proceeding to an open plaza hemmed in on all sides by the imposing concrete facades of the various government departments. Corbin and a dozen or so of the more important officials were already waiting for him, along with a few hundred Enforcers. They all saluted smartly and stood rigid, staring forward as though to avoid his gaze. A light drizzle hazed the air. Vash purposefully climbed the steps to the low podium and strode towards the lectern at its centre. He gently set his watch down, pausing to gather his thoughts. Stillness fell over the square, descending with the cold rain and in that silence every nervous twitch and clenched hand screamed guilt. Vash could read it scrawled across their faces. He just hoped it didn’t show on his own.

Corbin stood next to him, turned slightly and nodded. Vash didn’t return the gesture. He cleared his throat.

‘You all know why you’re here,’ Vash said, trying to sound assured. There was no microphone but nevertheless his voice carried in the enclosed space.

‘Sometimes, in our role as intermediaries between the Dyn and those we govern, we are forced to do things that might make us sleep less easily. We have erased our own history. We have driven entire communities from their homes. We have waged war against those that would risk the lives of millions in the pursuit of power or some futile ideal. But murder? Murder is something quite different; we are protectors of life, though many in the wider world will never truly understand what that means. None of us can be above the laws that we would govern by, for little else stands between us and the spectre of tyranny. The man responsible for the massacre yesterday will be held accountable.’

A party of Enforcers walked up the centre of the formation, shoving ahead a dejected, handcuffed Meyer, his usual ostentatious finery replaced by a grey coverall. Vash stepped aside as the Enforcers pushed Meyer to the top of the platform.

‘I took the initiative, I acted without authorisation and… and I was wrong to do so,’ Meyer said, checking a note, his voice low and defeated.

‘Speak up,’ prompted one of the Enforcers, gripping the man’s shoulder a little tighter than necessary. Meyer hesitated, then continued louder.

‘I have failed in my duties as a public servant and in recognition of this I relinquish my office so that I may serve the prison term deemed befitting of my crimes,’ he finished. Vash saw the hot glare of resentment in his eyes, the loathing that almost made him flinch away. But worst of all was the recognition.

You’re no different from any of us after all, it seemed to say.

He paused for a moment, looking back at the scrupulously blank faces as Meyer was led quietly away.

‘Corbin will be assigned as acting Director of Conurbation One, in addition to his other duties. He has asked me to notify you that his first act as Director will be to launch a full inquiry in due course so as to ensure such a tragedy does not happen again.’

Corbin smiled, nodded to the crowd in acknowledgement, taking it in stride despite total lack of forewarning. The crowd began to break up, subdued.

‘That went as smoothly as it could have done,’ Corbin said as they stepped down from the podium. Vash frowned at Corbin as the two men walked back towards the waiting car. ‘Don’t give me that look, sir! He’ll be treated better than most; far better than he deserves.’

‘I’m not comfortable with this. I mean, the hypocrisy of that speech alone! He was following my orders…’ Vash trailed off.

‘Technically you don’t give orders sir, you merely relay the wishes of those above. Meyer was all too willing to let his goon-squad loose and that’s hardly the first of his crimes.’ As they neared the car Corbin stopped, clapped him on his shoulder. ‘Vash, what’s done is done. This is for the best. Oh, and thanks for the Directorship. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at administration.’

An aide was running towards them.

‘It wasn’t a favour,’ Vash said, smiling at last. ‘Don’t be surprised if there’s a great deal of rot to clear out now that Meyer’s gone.’

The aide finally reached Vash, red-faced and out of breath. Corbin melted away, eager to get acquainted with his new role.

‘Sir, there’s a call for you!’ he panted, struggling to get the words out.

Vash walked briskly over to the car and picked up the handset. The neutral voice of Earth’s true ruler was a little tinny, but unmistakable. His gut congealed.

‘Ambassador, you are required for conference. You will be delivered to the Ascensor immediately.’